


a life you don't live is still lost

by snowbryneich



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-19 19:09:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 47,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14243856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowbryneich/pseuds/snowbryneich
Summary: James returns to Jamaica after several years away and finds an unexpected outcome to his halting friendship with Elizabeth Swann.





	1. Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> Some time ago while ago on tumblr I received the anon prompt "I wish you would write a Norribeth fic where..." James was the naive one in bed. This is the first of two fics I'm working on that answers this prompt :)

James’ failure to capture Jack Sparrow had not had the dire consequences he had expected professionally. He had been reassigned shortly after his Jack Sparrow’s escape and the tour that had failed to capture him or the _Black Pearl_. It was the least he had expected to be frank - he had assumed that the loss of the Interceptor would lead to court martial. But the defeat at Toulon and loss of the blockade and subsequent court martials of the Captains from that engagement had freed up several vessels and left a vacuum for Captains with battle experience. He wondered if perhaps Governor Swann had exerted some influence on his behalf despite the severance of their connection.

Personally it had gone slightly worse – his father had disowned him for being so foolish as to give a pirate a head start and James doubted any action he undertook in the war with France would make his father more forgiving. But at least it had spared him writing to his family of his ended engagement. His father would only oblidge his mother to refuse his lettes.

 

James had been given the third rate _HMS_ _Princess Amelia_ in the Mediterranean squadron and had quit Port Royal with mixed feeling. Jamaica had been his home port for nearly his entire adult life and now he did not expect to see it again. But the shattering of other hopes had made a fresh start appeal more than it might and had bid the Governor farewell and wished Elizabeth happiness with Mr Turner with as little bitterness as he could muster and left for his new posting.

He had done well there. He had always done well when things were straightforward, and war was certainly that. When three years later, after several actions and a reassignment to the _HMS_ _Neptune_ , he was at the top of the post list – James had been a captain at twenty-three, he was given Jamaica squadron. Of course. No doubt someone at the Admiralty board was holding it against him he had not lived down to expectations. He had taken part in nearly every action and done well given then no excuse to push him off as a yellow Admiral.

Still it had been three years. He had friends in Port Royal. It had been home once. Perhaps it would not sting so much to see Elizabeth again.

 

James did not expect to see her on his first day back in Port Royal feeling out of place on the docks as his luggage was unloaded and he felt awkward. He was not officially to take command for a month having acquired some leave and feeling like it may be an idea to settle in before. No doubt his return would have the gossip mill of the colonial port abuzz.

Her marriage to Turner had clearly freed her from some of the expectations of society. Her clothing was plainer, and she was not wearing a hat and from the golden tones of her skin and a smattering of freckles this was clearly not unusual for her. Her hair was brighter than ever in the midday sun drawing attention to her and she was quite mercilessly directing a young runner with a load of linens who was protesting quite innocently he was not going to drop them.

“A tale we’ve heard before,” Elizabeth said. “Set them down and find the quartermaster. At once. And take note they were delivered freshly laundered and boiled and if they end up dropped in the mud again you will still be billed.” Then she turned and noticed him. Then he felt that perhaps she was not so changed after all and that this did not bode at all well for him as she smiled at him and he was found himself surprised but pleased by the warmth of her welcoming smile.

 

“Admiral Norrington,” she said with a cursory curtsey. “Father said we were to expect your arrival. Welcome home.”

James made a leg. It was not sensible, he told himself to be so pleased by her friendly overture. He had misread her before. He had assumed an interest when she offered him manners while disdaining her other gentlemen callers when in the end it was just familiarity – he had known her a very long time. And she was _married_ now. “Thank you, Mrs. Turner,” he said formally. “I will be calling on your father at the earliest opportunity.”

“He’s looking forward to it,” Elizabeth told him. “As am I – I’ll let him know when I get home, but I am afraid I am due back at the hospital. She waved at the delivery of bandages she had brought for the fort. “Oh, by the way, Admiral. It’s Miss Swann still.” She waved her ring less hand at him and gave no more explanation than that and was off leaving him speechless and puzzled. Why was she unmarried still?

 

He received an unhelpful update from Captain Groves later that day when he called at Fort Charles. No-one it seemed knew the exact cause of the ending of the second engagement of the Governor’s daughter. The gossip had been fierce and varied but had never agreed if she had had a change of heart or if Mr. Turner had jilted her. “He didn’t stay long after mind.” Theo Groves said. “Some said he turned pirate with Sparrow – but we’ve heard nothing of him or the Black Pearl to confirm. Others say he’s set up his own sword shop in Carolina – with money Miss Swann gave him as a sop for being rid of him. And some say the Governor had him vanished or bribed him to leave but I doubt that’s true.” James agreed to that last at least. Weatherby Swann would never have accepted Mr. Turner in the first place if he felt like that. So, it would have to remain a mystery. It was not as if it was a topic he could bring up with her – it would be dreadfully improper.

 

James saw Elizabeth at least in passing most days though. He had been informed when he called on her father that Elizabeth’s chief occupation as a spinster was volunteering at the hospital. Yet she was never at the hospital and rarely at home at King’s house. She seemed to be constantly in town. Making all sorts of purchases, arranging deliveries and it seemed delivering rather threatening payment reminders to the ships and surgeons that had bought supplies from the hospital.

One day he was waiting for her father who was running late and she brought in a tea tray. “Not ministering to the sick today?” he asked.

“Ha,” Elizabeth said blindsiding him with a smile. “I don’t minister to them any day, Admiral. What have the ill done to you that you would wish my nursing on them. No, my help is in a more administrative capacity.”

“I see,” James said amused.

“After all,” Elizabeth said. “Us spinsters must keep ourselves busy.” And then she was off leaving him with his tea and awaiting the Governor and wondering. Spinster seemed harsh, James thought. Elizabeth was only twenty-three and as lovely as ever. Perhaps more so – he had known Elizabeth since she was a child and if he had been poor at reading her moods when courting her, he could tell now she was happier doing this than she had ever been being the belle of society.

 

It transpired if she was a spinster it was by choice. She seldom attended any events though her fathers influence meant she invited to everything despite the mild scandal of having discarded not just one but two fiancé’s When she did attend she paid eligible gentlemen no mind and was quite firm in directing them to pay her no attention in return. He asked her for a dance at one ball and she made a face at him. “I can’t,” she said. “I never dance. It would quite undo all my hard work at appearing unapproachable. I might have made an exception for you James, but I’ve turned down three men already and must sit out the night.” And then she was off to fetch herself a refreshment for herself and later he saw her coaxing officers to ask some of the shyer girls to dance.

 

Several weeks later, he asked again. At the start of the night, sure this time no-one else could have asked already and she surprised him by agreeing all the while scolding him. “If I start getting offers again, I shall blame you,” she said. “Having jilted two men is enough for one lifetime don’t you think?”

It was as close as he had come to having an explanation for the ending of her second engagement and he said nothing as she carried on. “Poor Will,” she said. “I was even less kind to him than I was to you if you can believe it. Though I did learn something – I managed to be slightly more circumspect and not end things in public.”

“If Mr Turner gave you cause,” James started to say only for her to interrupt with laughter. He could not picture any other reason why their engagement– she had seemed so set on the young man. But it hardly merited amusement either way and James tried not to look offended. Elizabeth saw right through that.

“Goodness,” she said. “I am not making mock James, I promise but after what I did you are still so determined to absolve me? No, it was all me. I assure you. Will was a perfect gentleman – following all of my father’s demands to win himself a place in society and I realised it would be no different no matter who I married. I thought my trepidation was of a society match. But it turned out that it was of marriage in general. I didn’t – I _don’t_ want to be married. Not to anyone.” She glanced up at him, concern clear in the deep brown of her eyes – the set was nearly done as she carried on. “But I am sorry. It could have been much easier for you if I had just realised that earlier.” And then the music ended, and he had to release her hand before he could reply that no, it would not have been easier at all. Perhaps it was well the dance had ended before he could say something foolish.

 

It was several weeks before he saw her again. She was sitting off to one side at a garden party, hatless and in full view of the sun while the other ladies gathered beneath shades, parasols and hid beneath wide-brimmed bonnets. It was a mild rebellion but a rebellion all the same and the sight of it made James smile. It also provided an opportune moment of privacy – he could speak to her without fear of eavesdropping or scandal out of earshot as she was while still in plain sight of the rest of the party so that their talk technically would be chaperoned. He had worried perhaps – was there something that had put her off marriage so entirely? If so as one of her erstwhile fiancés was he partly to blame. He should have made some excuse or small talk but when he sat by her proffering a drink of punch he found himself stumbling into his topic before he lost his nerve. “I would hope I never gave you cause – that I never did anything to add to your trepidation of marriage,” he said internally wincing at the awkwardness of his speech. He could think of only one thing about marriage women feared and – it was not as if some of the talk in that area about navy men was completely unfounded. Perhaps when he had said he wanted things to be unconditional she had worried he would be overly demanding. Perhaps she had not wanted Mr Turner as more than an escape. (He knew this for wishful thinking almost as soon as he had the thought.)

Elizabeth had only looked bemused by his words and had smiled slowly when the meaning of his implication dawned on her. “Oh that,” she said. “Hardly James – I rather thought if anything you would treat me with kid gloves.” She paused as if considering something and then shrugged and continued. “No, I was never nervous of _that_ at all. That might be the only thing I regret missing out on. I have asked my married friends and they are very indecisive – some say it’s splendid and others consider it a messy nuisance – though I suppose like so much it depends on the husband in question. No, it was not that. I would have like to have tried that really.” James flushed scarlet at her forwardness – this was a little much even for Elizabeth.

“It was all the rest,” she said. “Becoming a man’s property. A prop for his career because god forbid a woman have one of her own – being expected to smile and preen and host dinners for the admiralty as if I could not be the equal of any of your lieutenants or my father’s clerks or even a shopkeeper. Not being permitted any ambition of my own without it being a horrendous scandal. And I would have to behave _all_ the time. And then with Will – well he seemed ideal. Nothing would have been expected of a blacksmith’s wife. Not that was my only reason of course, I did fancy him like mad as well. I had such plans though once out of society. No-one would even had batted an eye if I took over the accounts. Or did something useful. But he wanted to be a swordsmith and expand the business and hold dinners with investors and hire a clerk for the accounts because I’d be busy soon enough with _babies_.” Elizabeth pulled a face at that. “And it would have been more of the same but with an extra helping of judgement on everything I did for marrying down. No thank you. So, I let him go as well. I’m happy as I am. My father frets of course, but really, he is much better off. A spinster daughter is much less of a disgrace than one who is a poor wife, and everyone knows it.”

“Your father only worries for your future,” James said – he knew for a fact that this was true because the Governor had told him so. More than once since his return. James hesitated. “When he is gone . . .”

“Hush,” Elizabeth cut him off at once. “He is going to live forever. And I don’t need protecting. I can manage my own future just fine.”

 

James supposed it was admirable. He had thought her brave for abandoning a second engagement when a third was unlikely and if that was not quite what had happened she had still made an unusual choice for herself. One not without risk – it was brave. But his admiration – reluctant as it was misread.

“Besides,” she added as if she could read his silence. As if she still knew him so well no matter how much time had passed. “If I really wanted to go back – my father would scare me up some suitors somehow. It is all he can do to stop himself currently. I had to threaten to stop coming to any events at all if he did not see reason. He kept increasing my dowry – as if a fortune hunter would be any safer than charting my own course. You should have seen how hopeful he got when he heard you were coming home. As if you could possibly still be interested in me and I had not put you through the ringer enough already.”

James concentrated on his drink for a long moment. He had not found his admiration of Elizabeth as diminished by time as he had hoped. But her clear objection to marriage had prevented any foolish hopes arising from her single status. If she would not tolerate the constraints of marriage for young Mr Turner with her obvious infatuation for him James knew very well what said for his own chances. He would not pursue a fool’s errand. Not again. He was so caught up in that thought he almost missed what she said next.

 

“Unless something more informal would appeal? I don’t want a husband but I’ve no objection to a lover.” James stared at her startled beyond belief wondering if he had misheard or misunderstood – Elizabeth held his gaze as both as brass. Her dark eyes met his as she looked him over rather appreciatively, her mouth caught in a mischievous smile that did not fade though she had the grace to blush a little under his shocked gaze as he struggled to respond to this.

“Elizabeth! Are you propositioning me? “James said finally. Her words left no room for misunderstanding – though James tried to think of one, she’d shocked him that much.

“Yes,” Elizabeth said simply. “I thought you might be willing to satisfy my curiosity. After all you must have wanted me at least a little to propose – at least once upon a time.”

“I wanted you as my wife – not my mistress,” James said his temper riled by her ridiculous proposition and worse the picture it had put in his head.It was a mental image that would linger.

“Oh, I did not mean on an ongoing basis. ” Elizabeth explained as if this was both obvious and any less disgraceful. “I just wanted to know what I was missing. And I assume your career has given you certain _opportunities_. One of us should know what we are doing?” She grinned. “I do have _some_ decorum, James. Do think about it won’t you?”

And then she was off, catching the attention of one of her married friends and abandoning James to consider the notion that had him left him shocked, baffled, appalled. And worst of all _tempted_. Damn the little madam.


	2. Responding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James gives Elizabeth an answer.

After her proposition, James avoided Elizabeth for a week – he did not trust himself to face her. She had misread him in several real ways if she thought he would be any part of her plans and yet he was haunted by the thought of it. He dreamed of her every night and while it was not the first time he had dreamed of Elizabeth in such fashion – nothing before had ever been as vivid. It was enough to make him glad of his lack of actual experience in that arena. It was easy to tell himself it could not possibly be as intense as the dreams he had. He woke every morning aching with want and unable to stop himself considering – even if only for a single moment saying _yes_ – until he woke properly and sense took hold again.

Then he was at sea for a month which gave him some time to plan what he would say before he saw her again. To make clear he would have no part of her scheme. Of course, when he finally saw her - he had a meeting with her father and she brought him a tray of refreshments while he waited – every word he had planned seemed to make itself conspicuously absent from his brain. She did not bring up her offer but instead arched an eyebrow at him and managed to make her expression a question all on its own.

James stared resolutely at his teacup. “I can take a hint,” Elizabeth told him having the cheek to sound exasperated. “I know what your avoidance meant, James, I shan’t launch myself at you in my father’s drawing room if that is what you are concerned about. James, I was only wondering if you might tell me why?”

“I don’t think I am the right candidate for your curiosity. Miss Swann” James told her as if vague formalness could put her off. To his chagrin - it only intrigued her further. He should have known better.

“Why ever not? I could understand if you objected entirely out of propriety as little as I would like it. But why should you not be suitable?” She did indeed seem rather baffled which would have been encouraging if not for her next words. (And of course, James reminded himself it was hardly sensible to let himself be encouraged.) “Have the other women you’ve lain with fallen on the nuisance side of opinion?” Elizabeth said so brightly she was clearly teasing but in a fond manner however inappropriate. “I find that quite difficult to believe.”

 

James set down his teacup. He had not expected to be questioned in this manner – though what he had expected he honestly could not say. Evidently, he was completely unable to predict what Elizabeth might do next. And her boldness forced him into honesty however inappropriate.

“No such opinion exists,” he said finally. “Nor any such woman to voice it.” James felt foolish enough admitting such to his former fiancé but forced himself to it in the knowledge that at least it should put an end to this nonsense. She wanted an experienced lover. That he could not offer her. And he had to make _her_ back off – there was only so much self-control a man had.

Her incredulous reply did not make him feel like he’d made the right choice. “You mean – you’ve _never_?” she said. And even though they were alone James gave her an exasperated look. That tone would carry – the thought of trying to explain this conversation to her father was worse than any battle he had faced at sea.

“I am unwed,” James said. “And old-fashioned it seems – surely that doesn’t surprise you that much. I know you have considered me dull in the past.” Elizabeth continued to stare, and James found himself rambling on though he had no real need to justify himself to her. “Both of my elder brothers had the pox before I was old enough to shave,” he carried on quietly. “My first sister in law died of it along with the child she carried at the time, and my brother’s second wife will not go out in public for the scars. Meanwhile, my brothers carry on infecting any women they can convince into bed. It was an object lesson.”

 

“Oh,” Elizabeth said. And then she finally blushed as if embarrassment had _finally_ caught up with her. It did not help matters that the touch of pink was only becoming on her more sunkissed than was proper cheeks.

  
“I am sure you are correct in wishing for someone experienced to satisfy your curiosity,” James said wanting badly to retreat and wishing he could recall his words. “I believe you said you wanted someone who knew what they were doing.”

Before she could say anything further on the matter, her father’s clerk arrived to inform him the Governor would see him now. James had never been as relieved to be shown in to see the Governor. Surely that was an end to the matter. Elizabeth would not want him now. Not even for the brief moment, she had offered and if occasionally he would be haunted by the thought of what might have been, of having Elizabeth in his arms and in his bed even if only once - at least it was over with.

  
Except it seemed however inadvertent, his refusal had offended her. James hardly saw her after that and then even if they were at the same event all she did was spent the night setting one determined mama or matchmaker on him after another and encourage the bolder debutants to chase him too.

Eventually, it became so irritating that he called at the King’s house again – deliberately choosing a time he knew her father would not be available and hoping she would be home. He had done nothing wrong, but he would apologise for whatever offence he had given if she would just call off the debutantes. Or desist in setting them on him.

Elizabeth had seemed perplexed. “I am not offended,” she assured him and made it worse by patting his hand. “Disappointed perhaps but not offended James. Why on earth would you think me so? I thought it rather sweet.”

James did not like being called sweet – certainly not by a slip of a girl and he pulled his hand out of reach. Even if he would put up with that her answer made no sense.

“Then why are you inflicting every debutante in Port Royal on me?” he asked determining there was no way to get sense out of her without bluntness.

“Inflicting?” Elizabeth said outraged. “For heaven’s sake James it is only a few dances. You are hardly hard done by. And I was trying to help. I thought you would want to be married given what you said. I have not been sending every debutante your way – only the ones who I thought you would like.”

 

Given the witless ninnies she had thus far inflicted on him this only riled him further – clearly, she had no idea of his taste – but then why would she.

“What I told you was in confidence.” James snapped finally. “And highly inappropriate and I would never have shared it if you had not shocked me senseless with your own behaviour.”

Elizabeth looked hurt for the briefest of moments before she lost her temper, her eyes widening and then she snapped at him. “You do not get to judge my behaviour, James Norrington. No-one does. That is the _whole point_ of the life I have chosen. If my forwardness offends you so you can leave, and I won’t inflict it on you anymore. But I’m not going to apologise that I’m unwilling to sign my life away just to have an experience.”

 

James let her rant – he had no realistic way of stopping her and he could not encourage such behaviour – not least because he had declined and the thought of her propositioning anyone else made him feel sick with jealousy.

“I am not judging you,” he said quietly. ‘though society - “

Elizabeth cut him off. “You need not remind me about society and its opinions,” she said. “I don’t have any further _plans_ James I knew I could trust you – that’s all.”

They sat in awkward silence for a long time after that and James was going to make his excuses and leave when she surprised him again. “I am sorry,” she said. “That I misunderstood about you wanting a wife. That I was surprised by what you said. I should have known you would hold yourself to a higher standard. It’s a lovely thought. Most men aren’t willing to wait. I am sure your next fiancée will realise how fortunate she is.”

 

James found himself eying her – he would not address the first topic and he thought he had made himself quite clear on the subject of fiancee’s.

“If you should want a new fiancée,” Elizabeth added hurriedly. “I will call off the debutantes. I promise. As much as I can. Some of their mothers might be harder to convince.”

“I am not as opposed to marriage as you are,” James said suppressing a smile at the idea of Elizabeth trying to convince a group of matchmaking mamas that he was not a catch. “I just have never wanted a social match for convenience. I will marry for love or not at all. So, I would appreciate any influence you have in making me less of a target, however difficult it may be.”

James excused himself and felt that perhaps the afternoon had not been the disaster it could have been. Considering.

 

He did not see Elizabeth for some time after that – the next occasion being her father’s spring ball where he was surprised to see her dressed much more like a debutante in a gown of green silk shot through with gold and wearing jewellery he knew had been her mother’s. If her tanned skin was not in fashion it still suited her making her stand out from the pale flowers of Port Royal’s debutantes. And her hair was so brightened by the sun it caught every spark of firelight in the ballroom. He wondered briefly why she had made such an effort – he could not help but wonder if she had found someone else to proposition. He told himself it was none of his concern. It could be entirely innocent – she was her father’s hostess after all. He was not expecting her to want anything to do with him after their last conversation and of course, as usual, he was dead wrong. Elizabeth sought him out early in the night and asked for a dance. She did not even attempt to hide her amusement at his rather nonplussed response leaning in to confide. “I hardly thought you would be asking me anytime soon.”

She was not incorrect, but James acquiesced – if only because if she wanted to speak with him so urgently then a dance seemed relatively safe. Surely, she would not proposition him again – he had made his position plain and they _were_ under her father’s roof, surrounded by society that would condemn her in an instant if they heard a whisper of her plans. Somehow this was not at all comforting.

 

“I am sorry,” she said almost as soon as they had found their place in the set. “You never seem to blame me, but I can see how my behaviour might make you want to be surer of your next fiancée.”

James did not take her meaning at first. Then it dawned on him just how she had taken his declaration that he would only marry for love. He was not sure just how Elizabeth propositioning him had led him making so many inappropriate statements in his attempts to refuse her. He found himself hopelessly disarmed by her. “You do not owe me an apology,” he told her as they turned in the dance. Perhaps this might be the last conversation they would have on the topic. “I did not decide I wanted to marry for love after being jilted. I had seen ample evidence of the misery of smart matches in my own family long before our engagement” his words were cut off when Elizabeth stopped in the middle of the set and snatched her hand out of his.

“But you proposed to me,” she said as if he was somehow unaware of that fact

 

“I did,” he answered though she had not asked a question she seemed to be awaiting a response.

“Oh,” Elizabeth said, her eyes wide – he did not think he had seen her so baffled before. In fact, he’d never seen her look baffled ever and she took a step back careless of the other dancers around them.

It was then that James finally realised what had surprised her. He had not set out to tell her he had proposed because he loved her. He had assumed she had _known_. He had not intended she feel badly about it. He’d never seen her look so guilty. But before he could say anything – make what reassurance he could in public Elizabeth turned and fled the ballroom leaving James alone surrounded by a whirl of whispered gossip.

Her precipitate exit did achieve one goal, every woman in the ballroom left him alone for the rest of the night as if scared to be tainted whatever scandal had caused the Governor’s daughter to retreat from the Governor’s own ballroom. In fact, if it had not been for the look of utter shock on her face, James might have thought this a ploy to keep up her end of the bargain and drive off the matchmakers.


	3. Frustration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth attempts an apology - it goes badly.

The next few days did not improve matters as lacking any facts the rumour mill came up with its own possibilities over the events at the Governor’s spring ball.

Theo Groves apparently considered it part of his duty to keep James up to date which each and every theory. He was a little too keen on it in James’ opinion.

They ranged from the utterly nonsensical – that he had threatened to hunt down and hang Mr Turner for piracy, to curiously hurtful that he had proposed again and that had been the reaction he had received. They even struck a little close to home with the notion he had offered Elizabeth carte blanche. He supposed that rumour could only be more horrifying if they had gotten the offer the correct way around.

“Did you propose again?” Theo asked after relaying the latest rumour. “I know she is not keen on proposals – she threatened to throw brandy in my face when I asked for her hand and said I should know better.”

James paused – he had no idea Theo had proposed to Elizabeth and belatedly Theo seemed to realise he might not be aware. “I had no expectations of her saying yes,” he added hurriedly. “But her father had increased her dowry again and his influence could not hurt. It seemed worth a go. Not all of us can have an Admiral for a father you know.”

And then Theo recalled the state of James’ relationship with the elder Admiral Norrington and excused himself – in his own words - “Before I put my foot so far down my throat that I choke.”

 

James intended to comment on none of it to anyone – though that was a little difficult with the Governor who he could not so easily gainsay. In the end, he had claimed he had made an innocuous remark and directed Weatherby Swann to his daughter for an understanding of her reaction as he could not provide one.

A week later Elizabeth called on him herself at the fort, plainly dressed and looking as uncomfortable as he had ever seen her. It reminded him of the day he had proposed when only in hindsight had he realised she could barely breathe – he had blamed that on the corset and the faint. Perhaps she may well have looked that unhappy no matter what she wore.

 

“My father has me playing messenger,” she said placing a note on his desk. “Though really I have instructions to apologise for my behaviour.” She smiled. “Even though he has no idea what my behaviour was. I am sorry I overreacted.”

“It’s quite all right,” James said. He was relieved that her apology was for that night and her actions and not another one for jilting him. It was not a conversation he wanted to have again.

“I’m sorry if my offer rubbed salt in an old wound. It seems I had come to some conclusions about your feelings for me that were incorrect,” she said as if fate was feeling especially fickle today – no not today – ever since James had come back to Jamaica. “I knew you cared for me but not –“

“Elizabeth,” James said, unable to hide the edge of desperation in his tone at his need to _not_ discuss this again. He immediately regretted dropping Miss Swann and returning to their old familiarity. Though it seemed unlikely formality would bar her from forwardness given their previous conversations. “I do not think we need to discuss this any further. You did not return the sentiment and obviously whatever I felt for you is long past.” Elizabeth had the gall to look a little put out at that and James hoped it was not as poor a lie as it sounded in his head. “However it came to pass you did us both a service. I wanted – I want to marry for love. That is not what our nuptials would have been if they had proceeded. And you do not wish to wed at all. So, however, it took place the ending of our engagement was for the best.”

  
All James wanted at present was to never talk about this again with anyone but even his attempt to say things had worked out as they should had Elizabeth defensive.

“It is not as if you ever said anything to make me aware,” she said quietly.

“Really?” James said thinking back to the steady if somewhat formal courting of Elizabeth, “I thought my courtship quite obvious,” he had done everything he was supposed to. Asked her about flowers, complimented her, always secured two dances at every event, secured her father’s permission, but even in his head that list isn’t convincing. He deliberately does not let himself think on let alone mention the time he had told her he wished for unconditional. The memory made him feel unbearably self-conscious. 

“Your courtship of a fine woman,” Elizabeth said. “So you could tick marriage off your list of achievements.”

 

It was not as if James was unaware _now_ of how terrible his proposal had been. Given the eventual outcome though he had only been relieved he had not made a more obvious declaration if only for the sake of his pride. How pointless that seemed now. “Yes, well,” he said. “I did ask for your hand – was that not a hint.”

“God no,” Elizabeth said suddenly wide-eyed. “That was the fifth proposal that year, James – I would never take that as an indication of feeling.”

James as taken aback by that – of course Elizabeth had always attracted more than her share of suitors. Society was so limited and she had been and still was the most beautiful woman in Port Royal since the day of her debut but he had no idea it had been so many. And it made her response to him – the discomfort he had only noticed later seem a little disproportionate. Why had it been such a burden to have him propose if she was so used to rejecting men.

“Yours was just the first my father might have approved,” Elizabeth said quietly. “Back when his standards were much higher for what he wanted in a son in law.“

  
“You can’t blame your father for worrying,” James said.

“Can’t I?” Elizabeth said, her tone cool. “Haven’t I done enough to calm his worries – I stay here. I keep myself busy with respectable activities like the hospital. And it’s still not enough. He’s up a height with hope due to the rumours that you are interested in me again. Even though he thinks my response to such interest was to run off.”

James did not know what to say to that. Not that he got a chance. “And you think his concern is reasonable,” Elizabeth said. “It’s written all over your face.”

“You said yourself – you wanted your father to live forever,” James said. “It is natural for him to be concerned over what would happen to you without his protection.”

 

“That is not what I meant,” Elizabeth said an incredulous note in her voice and more than an edge of temper. “I don’t want my father to die because I love him. Not because I am a child who needs his guidance. I am of age and a grown adult – if I was a man I could have opened a business or joined the military or done a thousand things. I could have my own lodgings and a dozen mistresses if I wanted. Not have to stay in my childhood bedroom and consider every move I make as to what my father will think or what the gossips will say. I never wanted to work in a hospital but at least I am making a difference. I have saved them hundreds of pounds. And allowed them to treat more people. That’s saved lives. But what does that compare against appearing on someone's arm or giving my father grandchildren.” She pushed away from his desk and stood and James rose to his feet.

“No-one is denying the good you have done. But the world is not kind to women alone,” James began. But Elizabeth cut him off and he knew he had only made things worse.

“Just stop,” she said her tone flat. He did not think he had ever seen her so angry – her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright. “I came here to apologise,” she said, her tone rising in pitch. “For my lack of regard to your feelings but it turns out I am not sorry. Not one bit. You didn’t love me. You are the same as my father and all the rest. You don’t even think of me as a real person. Just some sort of simpleton who can never have responsibility for my own life and that I should be content with the scraps society allots me because of my sex. Well I’m not and I won’t be and there is nothing you or my father can do about that.I am not sorry that I want more from life than to keep house and bear children.”

James saw red at this accusation – perhaps he had not shown her his regard but he did not intend to have his feelings dictated to him. “All that shows is you have as little regard for your father as you have for the other men you have discarded. Of course, I think of you as a real person – nobody has ever been more real to me. It does not make me deluded about how the world works.” As soon as the words were out James wished he could recall them and the volume. But he needn’t have worried as it clearly meant nothing to Elizabeth who turned on her heel and stalked out, without a word, her cheeks high with colour as she marched past a dozen loitering marines and a sheepish looking Captain Groves.

 

“Well,” the Captain said with a brief glance at Elizabeth’s back. “If that was your attempt to quiet the rumours you may want to rethink your strategy.” James glared at him. “Sir,” Captain Groves added.

“I am sure you will continue to keep me informed,” James said coldly.

 

In the end, the main rumour that came out of it all was that James had been encouraged to consider Elizabeth again by the Governor and Elizabeth had assumed his interest to be mockery – hence her taking such offence.

This rumour was so prevalent that one morning to James astonishment Governor Swann called on him to apologise. “It was not my intent to push my daughter at you,” he said, clearly baffled while James did his best not to let any of his concern over that phrasing show.

“Of course not, sir.” James said. “I have never thought so. Who knows where the gossips get their ideas. Miss Swann remains a fine woman but your daughter’s opinion of me has been inescapably clear for some years now. Any interest from myself would be a bootless errand but no doubt the past only made it more tempting for the gossips to be creative. The Governor nodded and if he looked a little deflated to have James’ lack of interest so directly confirmed.

James would not feel a hint of guilt over that. There would have been much more for the Governor to be concerned over if James did not have a handle on his interest in Elizabeth.

“I would tell Miss Swann she is quite safe from any approach from myself,” James added – refusing to smile at the irony of that statement. “But I feel it best to keep some distance. I would not wish to cause more talk.”

 

Subsequently, James declined all invitations from the King’s House that were not business related and when he could not avoid calling Elizabeth was never home.

But once when he called on the Governor he noticed that the door to an adjoining room on the Governor’s study as ajar and he caught a glimpse of a map table filled with charts and plans – and beside them a pile of bandages and some accounts.

The Governor followed his gaze – “Elizabeth insisted on having her own study some time ago,” he said. “But lately she seems to spend all her time at the hospital – she has an office there too. She has done so much for them.”

“I have heard she is very dedicated,” James said. Though most of what he had heard and been relayed in rather pitying tones from people who did not truly seem to admire Elizabeth’s dedication and rather thought it folly and worse thought he would be pleased to hear her called a fool. “You must be proud.” The statement sounded more like a question than he had meant it too.

“Of course,” the Governor said. “I have always been proud of her.” But some part of their long-standing friendship made him.”It’s always been one of the feelings she most engenders – along with worry.”

James laughed politely at the joke but could not help but think of Elizabeth’s frustration the other day and her words about her father. It was only worse that she was right.


	4. Commiseration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James receives a little more insight into the challenges Elizabeth faces.

James still saw Elizabeth of course, Port Royal society was small and she did attend some events. They did not speak. Elizabeth did not dance and James forbade himself from glaring at the few men she did speak to. That would not help the talk.

 

The next time he spoke to her was on the docks. He had witnessed a quite vicious altercation between her and a merchant captain over some supplies. James had been unable to help himself lingering – the man’s hand drifted far too close to his weapon as the conversation grew heated and though he knew it would be unwelcome – his presence was clearly noted. The captain gave him a once over, taking in the uniform and then with a look of deep disgust he informed Elizabeth her business was no longer welcome before turning and stalking away. “What a shame,” Elizabeth called after his back. “I am sure if I wanted to buy rotten grain I could find someone selling it cheaper.”

Elizabeth watched the captain go a look James could not read on her face and he was surprised when after a moment, she seemed to draw herself together. “Thank you,” she said rather subdued.

She was bracing herself for some sort of scolding, James realised. For him to say he had told her so or warn her about the dangers of dealing with rough sailors. James instead nodded. “You’re quite welcome Miss Swann,” he made a leg. “Good day.”

He would have lectured her for the entire afternoon if he thought it would make a blind bit of difference.

 

Once he caught her in town, quite caught up by a shop window. He smiled to himself when he realised it was the bookshop – it had changed names and proprietors since he left but it was ever one of her old haunts. When she used to go missing as a young girl and send the town in the furore by vanishing for hours the bookshop was one of the likely haunts - and the least worrisome, compared to the beach or the docks. Eventually, her father had instructed old Mr Gerald to send a runner if she should turn up unaccompanied and it meant one less location to send men to search. He was surprised when she did not go in.

“Surely your work at the hospital allows you some time to read?” he said. Given the whole point was her directing her own life – she must have some time for hobbies.

“Perhaps,” she said. “But not to read anything Mr Perkins is selling.” James did not understand until he followed her rather pointed gaze to a small brass plate by the door. It read ‘No Dogs’ – and underneath that ‘No Women’.

“I will have words with- “ he began.

“Admiral Norrington,” Elizabeth said sharply. “Kindly desist. I already have my father fussing but at least he has cause. If you defend me any further there will be more talk. If I am going to have my name bandied about town as someone’s mistress I’d prefer it be someone who is at least willing to bed me.”

“Elizabeth!” James said. Surely that would not be the outcome. Perhaps he had defended her twice but he would not suffer _any_ woman to be threatened or disparaged within his sight.

“I don’t want your pity.” She said her cheeks flushed. And stalked off. Again.

 

James had to spend half an hour browsing in a shop where he had no intention of purchasing anything just to make sure there would be no further talk.

It was utterly ineffective. Theo Groves told him that evening that the rumour was that he had called Elizabeth an undutiful daughter and a disgrace to her poor father – right there in the street and berated her so strongly, she had fled in tears.

 

To James’ dismay, this only increased his popularity. The debutantes and doting mamas were of the opinion Elizabeth had such a scolding coming, an attitude that had James retreat from attending events, citing work before he said something he regretted in public.

 

The next invite he received was one to dine with the Governor. A rather pointed note that closed with Weatherby Swann stating he was looking forward to his attendance. It was as close to an order as it could be without breaching the boundaries of propriety.

It was a most awkward night. Only Elizabeth and himself were in attendance and the Governor made most of the conversation as Elizabeth was coldly furious about something. Or with someone. James assumed with himself but could not rule out that her father had offended her in some way.

Later once they had retreated to the drawing room and Elizabeth had point blank refused to entertain them with music to her father’s clear dismay, James was startled to receive a whispered apology. “I am sorry.” He would have said there was no need before she added. “I pretended a headache all day and asked to take a tray in my room but Father would not have it.” It seems she was apologising for her presence – which only confused him more.

In the end, he did what he could to end the awkwardness. Her father could ignore her excuses but not his when he begs off early pleading work. If she wanted to be spared his company he would not inflict it on her.

 

It ends up frustrating James even more. To see the way Elizabeth was treated – there was more than one shop in Port Royal with a little brass sign and more than once, James has seen her be cut in the street. Not that she ever appeared offended – in fact, she sometimes would cross the street to be in the way of some matron who wishes to offer her the cut direct and appeared amused by the way they fuss as they turn their backs.

Rumours fly if he so much as speaks of her – let alone to her. Port Royal no longer seemed as much like home as it did on his arrival.

 

Occasionally James forced himself to be realistic. He wanted a wife, a family of his own. He returned to attending events, making small talk and asking for dances. Surely one of the many girls in society would catch his eye eventually.

Every girl he chose tried to win his favour with a cutting remark about his former fiance. He had yet to ask for a second set from any of them.

 

“You are gaining a reputation as remarkably hard to please,” Theo Groves told him over cards.

James was losing and badly. He couldn’t even blame his vague suspicion that Theo cheated. He was very drunk.

“If only it stopped them trying,” he said darkly.

Theo hesitated and James braced himself for another update on the latest rumours. Instea,d he was offered advice.

“Perhaps you could pick the least offensive and court her for a while?”

“No,” James said ungraciously and refused to discuss it any further.

Theo took a bit more pleasure than usual in taking James’ money that hand. And the cards are barely dealt before he has more advice. “You are doing her no favours you know.”

James did not think Elizabeth wanted favours from him and he forfeited the game and left in a temper as Theo counted his windfall.

 

The next he saw Elizabeth was in the garden of King’s house, dabbing half heartedly at a painting – he was early for an appointment with her father.

James knew he should leave her be but the sight was so suprising he has stepped though to see her before he has thought about it.

 

Elizabeth looks tired and tense and though her painting seemed mostly complete, she decides to slap another layer of paint on the canvas much more energenitcally as if she holds it personally responsibly for some insult.

“Interesting technique,” he commented only for her jump and glance around startled. This sends a splatter of white paint over his best uniform jacket.

Elizabeth swore – an oath that made him raise an eyebrow – not that he was truly shocked. She had spent enough time at sea to have heard worse. And he didn’t think much she did could shock him anymore. She didn’t notice anyway.

“I am sorry,” she said attempting to wipe at the paint with a spirit soaked rag. “You startled me.” It was the most neutral she has sounded in some time.

“I was quite surprised myself,” James said attempting to wave her attentions away. She has only made the splatter of paint into a smear. “I thought this sort of activities quite below your notice.”

“My father insists I spend two afternoon a week on ladylike pursuits.” Elizabeth informed him. “Normally I insist he count the garden parties or I won’t attend any of them but my company is out of favour at the moment. So it was this or sewing to keep up my end of the bargain.”

 

James paused then. He cannot help but think of Theo’s warning which he had not taken seriously at all. “Miss Swann, are you being excluded because of me?”

Elizabeth laughed which despite himself made him want to smile. It seemed genuine and it was the first time he had seen her look remotely happy since the bloody spring ball. “Don’t flatter yourself.” she advised him. “You have seen how popular I am. There are lots of reasons to exclude me.”

Then he was summoned for his appointment and must bid her good day.

 

Obviously, he cannot question the Governor about what conditions he has set for Elizabeth to have her freedoms so James turned to his next most useful source of information.

Theo Groves of course, knew nothing on the subject of bargains but over cards and brandy, he did allow it was rare to see Elizabeth at more than two events a week if that. And he was happy to tell James he was indeed the source of Elizabeth’s current predicatment. “Everytime you ignore another girl after a single dance they speculate you still have a fancy for Miss Swann. No-one wants to invite her to anything in case she decides to come to her senses and set her cap for you.”

James went home and declined every invite on his social calender – even going so far as to pen excuses for ones he has already penned acceptances to. He cannot bring himself to make them proper apologies for his absence. He was not sorry. 

He knew this was how society worked but it still sickened him and made his way though the best part of another bottle of brandy as he wrote the correspondence. He sent the notes – before he could change his mind and retired early with a headache.

 

James woke the next day to find the sun offensively bright and with such a pounding behind his eyes it was as if he had a whole collection of ships carpenters working in his brain. He was covered in sweat and ashamed of himself. He cannot remember being this hungover since his last day in Port Royal when he had drunk every drop of alcohol in the house before he had took ship to his next posting taking advantage of being on a ship he had not a lick of responsibility on to throughly mourn the life he had planned. And even at sea that had not made him this ill. He vomited until there was nothing left in his stomach and he did not know what seemed more of a punishment – the notion of dressing in his uniform or going out in the sun.

But James had never malingered in his life – his father had always considered that fresh air and exercise was the best cure for any ague and made any boyhood illnesses a misery. And it had had some affect because James had never been ill a day in his adult life though there had been the usual assortment of injuries at sea. He would not be defeated by a hangover. He dresses formally, resenting every layer and pausing twice to empty his stomach again and vowing no more drinking with Captain Groves. He would rid the house of alcohol but he did that last night quite thoroughly. Though he has never been this sickened by alcohol before. Clearly, age was catching up with him.

 

It was even irritating to see said Captain loitering outside James’ office looking completely unaffected. “Christ James,” Theo said. “I’d say get yourself to the infirmary – you look like a dead man walking but there’s an outbreak of yellow fever and it’s mostly full of jaundiced men so perhaps not.”

James would let himself be shot - by a pirate no less before he’d seek medical advice for a hangover. He dismissed Theo with a nod and decides today he would stay in his office.

The pounding in his head never really shifted and by lunchtime, the light was making it worse and he had a deep ache in his back from hunching over reports trying to ignore the sunlight.

Then James received a summons from the Governor - for a long moment he was tempted to ignore it.

He did not. He decided the air would do him good and the walk would stretch his back and if nothing else the sun would seem milder indoors after a stretch outside. He regretted not summoning a carriage every step of the walk to the King’s house. His back worsened as he walked and the sun seemed as if it was brighter than ever to personally offend him.

 

To make the day complete he arrived as Elizabeth was leaving. A basket on her arm – no hat of course and a sense of purpose about her that was admirable even through the fog of his headache. She looked horrified at the sight of him. “Admiral – James you look _dreadful_.”

“Thank you,” James said stiffly wondering just how rude he would have to be before she would leave him in peace. His head only ached more as if punishing him for the ungenerous thought.

“No, seriously James,” she said, taking a step towards him. “You are clearly ill. Have you seen a doctor.” She reached out to him and he stepped out of reach - which made the room sway. He ignored it.

“I am merely under the weather,” James said. “After all you have assured me tending the sick is not your area.” He blinked – Elizabeth was almost seeming to blur before his eyes and when he pressed one hand to his eye sure it was only sweat in his eyes, his hand came away bloody and he stared at it.

“I may not tend the sick,” Elizabeth said, “But I am still at the hospital enough to recognise yellow fever when I see it.”

James opened his mouth to deny he had any such thing. But before he could say a word his vision blurred again and then the world went dark.

The next few days were a blur of fever and pain and blood. He vomited it, bled from his eyes and nose and it seemed everytime he woke there was a doctor bleeding him as if he had not lost enough of the substance.

And he burned with fever the whole time. He did not know where he was – not at the hospital or the infirmary and he kept dreaming of Elizabeth. In his dreams, she was much more interested in tending the sick and the dreams were so real it was like like she was actually there mopping his brow and assuring him. “I’m watching over you James,” before he slipped back into the darkness of the fever.

 


	5. Transience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James' brush with mortality gives him to cause to rethink a certain decision.

James knew even after he recovered fully from yellow fever, he would always be mortified by the fashion in which he had realised he was in King’s House.

The first days of his illness had been so confusing. He had assumed Elizabeth was a fever dream and been baffled by the unfamiliar room he had become aware of in the few moments he was lucid. Then he had woken in the dark of the night soaked with sweat and stricken with thirst. He had drunk the water left by his bed – most of it anyway – his shaking hands had spilled some of it. Then he had gotten out of bed in search of more refreshment even if unsure of his actual destination. But then he had discovered a maid dozing by the door who had been startled awake and dissuaded him from going anywhere by dashing off to fetch her mistress. Elizabeth had appeared before James had made it to the stairs.

“James,” Elizabeth said. There was a note in her voice stopped him in his tracks as he could not place it and then he felt foolish as his lack of apparel suddenly hit him – he had on nothing but a sweat-soaked nightshirt. Elizabeth would have been a little more proper with a robe over her shift if she had bothered to fasten it. She came towards him and he could do nothing but stare at the cloud of golden hair loose and rumpled around her shoulder and the slightest hint of self-consciousness that remained was all that allowed him to suppress the instinct to touch it. “What are you doing out of bed – the doctor said you must rest until your fever breaks.” If James had been present for this conversation he did not remember it and he was not quick enough in his befuddled state to stop her reaching for his forehead. “Christ,” she said. “You are boiling. How are you even awake? Back to bed at once.”

 

“I have a meeting with the Governor,” James informed her as if this would put her off and she blinked at him. Then steered him back to bed. His head hurt but it did not make him tolerant of the pitying look she was giving him.

“I have it on good authority that has been postponed, she said gently. Speaking as if he was soft in the head – which no doubt was how he had appeared. “Just until you are recovered.”

“There is nothing wrong with me,” he had started but this was of course, firmly ignored.

“Sarah, open the windows,” Elizabeth instructed. “I said repeatedly it is not to be allowed to get stuffy in here. He needs air. Then fetch more water please – from the preboiled lot please and the willow bark tonic.”

The maid looked rather put upon. “I am not supposed to leave you alone with him– “

“Admiral Norrington can barely stand,” Elizabeth said. “I am sure he is no threat to my virtue,” The maid hesitated. “ _Now_ please,” Elizabeth said in a tone that had the maid move. Then she steered him to the bed. “I don’t think it would put my father’s mind at ease to say you have already made your lack of interest in bedding me clear.”

And then while he was fumbling for a response she dosed him with a different tonic that had him choking until the maid came back with the water and he had to be dosed again with willow bark before he was allowed that, he had not meant to grumble and perhaps had not realised how much he had until Elizabeth sighed and said to the maid. “Poor man – I must be the last thing he wants to see.” As if he wasn’t even there. James opened his mouth to protest only to be dosed again with medicine and then the room faded again.

The next few days were foggy but aware of his location now it became clear to James that for whatever reason Elizabeth had made him an exception to her rule about nursing the sick. He tried to tell her that she did not have to.  That he could go home. He did not mean to be a burden on her or her father’s staff. He clearly was not capable of making himself clear and it seemed every time he opened his mouth Elizabeth dosed him with something or other. Her favourite medicine to dole out in this fashion was a bizarre concoction which was at once sweet and garlicky and it was perhaps the least unpleasant of the series of tonics she forced on him. “I know I am not the nurse you would like,” she had told him once in response to these objections. “But there are only Estrella, Sarah and my father’s valet who have had yellow jack. Dr Frazier said moving you was out of the question. And even if not – this is a bad outbreak. The hospital and fort infirmary are both full. But I promise as soon as you are well I will leave you in peace.” James had wanted to correct her but had forced himself to suppress the impulse. He was not making himself clear and she still had the medicine spoon. Opening his mouth would only result in another spoonful of tonic.

And it seemed she was always there. She had taken over the window seat and he always woke to find her reading or writing or totting up numbers in an account book only to abandon that whenever he stirred. James realised if he stayed still and quiet he could watch her for some time before she would be there with the medicine. He could not bring himself to feel guilty about it. He was only looking and they, of course, were always chaperoned by one or other of the maids.

 

* * *

The only time Elizabeth left was when she directed the valet to help him wash – a humiliation James would have protested much more vigorously if he could or when Dr Frazier called. This was nearly always daily, and the Doctors main duty was to bleed him. James protests to this treatment were listened to even less than his attempts to dissuade Elizabeth from dosing him and it did relieve the headaches a little even if it never touched the fever. Dr Frazier called this progress.

A week after his collapse, James woke, and the headache had finally cleared, and he spent a whole day feeling resolute that he would be out from underfoot any day now. Then he began to vomit blood again. His fever built all evening and Dr Frazier was summoned.  There were more medicines, more bloodletting. More cold cloths and it all made no difference at all. James must have passed out for he woke to find himself being plunged into a tub of cold water – which thankfully had been orchestrated by the doctor and the valet and Elizabeth was nowhere in sight according to James’ blurred vision.

Then more bloodletting and James was drifting in and out when he heard Elizabeth arguing. “Has he not lost enough blood? He’s so pale.”

“Miss Swann, bloodletting is our best hope of balancing his humours – you know more than most how dangerous a relapse of yellow fever is. And this is worse than many. To be frank, if this fever does not break I do not think he will survive the night.”

James did not remember the rest of the night. At least he was sure he did not. Elizabeth might have made the effort to make him cared for but surely, he dreamt her weeping by his bedside and pressing a kiss to his fevered brow while another maid fussed over them.

“Hush Estrella,” Elizabeth said. “What difference does it make. My reputation is hardly pristine. And even if it were I would not care if I was the slightest bit of comfort.”

“Miss Elizabeth – your father said”

“I will deal with my father,” Elizabeth said. “I’d tell him I’d marry  James if it would make him stop fussing, but I can’t think of anything that would put James off from coming back to the land of the living more.” The maid quieted at last and Elizabeth kissed his brow again before holding a cup of honeyed water to his lips. James drank. Then slept.

It was that last bit that convinced James it was not real. After all Elizabeth did not want to marry anyone. And for all Elizabeth was a regular presence during his illness – that was not the only time he had dreamt of Elizabeth – if he thought he could not be more haunted by her proposition it appeared that adding fever and a close proximity only made it easier for his sleeping mind to imagine taking her up on the offer.

 

When James next woke he was alone, his shirt soaked through with sweat, but he did not feel hot and he sat up just as Elizabeth came through the door with yet another bottle of some foul tonic in hand.

“Good afternoon,” she said. “Awake at last.” She looked wrung out and James blinked. There were dark circles under her eyes and she looked like – surely, she had not been crying?

She pressed a hand to his forehead and James let her and was startled again by the relief on her face.

“I would not put it past you to have a second relapse,” Elizabeth told him in a fond scold. “You don’t do things by halves do you?” James was not sure what she meant. “Would you like something to eat?”

James realised suddenly he would – he had had no appetite at all when fevered – something that could have been accounted for by the amount of foul medication he’d been dosed with as much as the illness. But now he was ravenous – though slightly less so when his options were restricted to broth, calves foot jelly or porridge.

He said nothing against these options, but Elizabeth could easily read him. “What a fussy guest you are.” she said, “Is the menu not to your liking?” And he immediately he felt ashamed – as if he hadn’t been enough trouble.

James ate half a bowl of the jelly and drank a cup of beef tea while trying to correctly word an apology but when he tried -  Elizabeth looked puzzled and he’d realised he’d been had. As if Elizabeth cared about manners. And worse he felt full after the flimsy meal.

“I’m sorry – it’s doctors’ orders,” Elizabeth informed him when she took the remaining jelly away and wrinkled her nose at it. “But if you keep it down I shall smuggle you some bread with your broth at tea time.”

 

She kept her word and fetched him a single fresh baked bread bun with a fresh pat of yellow butter. The broth was more substantial than he was expected too, steaming hot and swimming with barley, onions and bacon. It might have been the most delicious meal James had ever eaten and Elizabeth looked unexpectedly pleased when he said so.

“Good,” she said. “I rather think you mean that, unlike when I forced my baking on you in the past.”

“You made that?” James said unthinkingly – he had indeed been forced to sample her attempts when she was young – not one of which had been edible. And then he realised how rude he had been. “But you were up all night – when did you have time.”

“I haven’t been here since the first night of your relapse – the Doctor said I was interfering with his treatment,” Elizabeth told him. She made a face. “He has pointed out my lack of training repeatedly but when I had yellow fever every bloodletting made me feel worse – even when I did not think that was possible.”

“Was that not last night?” James said carefully.

“No,” Elizabeth said. “It was four days ago – James. You’re very lucky. Most people who relapse don’t recover – Doctor Frazier didn’t think you would survive one night of fever let alone four.”

 

The doctor when he called said the same. James felt like a scolded schoolboy – he had not gotten ill on purpose and he was sure they were exaggerating especially when the doctor still did not think he should go home.

“I cannot presume on the Governor’s hospitality anymore,” James had protested. His argument was slightly let down when Doctor Frazier wanted to examine his water and James found himself too weak to stand.  

 

The next day the Governor called on him for the first time conducting the entire conversation from the door of the room. “I am so glad to hear you are doing better, Admiral.”

“I apologise for the inconvenience,” James said at once. “I had no idea I was fevered when I came for our appointment – I would not have put your household at risk if I had known.”

The Governor waved that off, “Half the maids came down with it before you even arrived. It’s been the worst outbreak Port Royal has seen in some years. The toll has been considerable. I’m afraid.” James quieted at that and Weatherby Swann paused. “And I am glad that Elizabeth had been sufficiently distracted from the hospital – I’m afraid the conditions there are less than ideal.”

James could imagine, the hospital did not have enough staff at the best of times. He could easily imagine the state it would become if there had been an epidemic. “Doctor Frazier has said you are not well enough to leave us just yet,” the Governor added, and James felt his face heat at the clear implication he was a burden.

“Yes,” he said. “But I am sure that I could – perhaps if you could spare a carriage.”

“No, no,” the Governor said. “Wouldn’t dream of it. You must get well. But I think now you are no longer fevered we may have to find you a different attendant.”

James nodded. “Of course, sir,” he said. And he did not see Elizabeth or the Governor until a week later when Doctor Frazier finally permitted him to be moved to finish his recovery at home. He was appalled at his own weakness, having spent a week in bed feeling dizzy whenever he moved, nursed by the Governor’s staff and feeling very aware of how unwelcome he was.

 

While the fever had gone, he had been left with only occasional bouts of the chills – had lost a stone and a half of weight and when in his own room in front of a shaving mirror, he could not help but be appalled at the state of himself even he suddenly felt very vain to be examining his own appearance. The weight loss made him look older and yet he was darkly amused to see they had cut his hair when he was fevered. He hadn’t even noticed, it was uneven and clipped short to his head and he wondered if Elizabeth had done it until he realised he was being foolish. It would have been Governor’s valet – who no doubt had been responsible for shaving him as well

James did not have a valet – he was too used to managing on his own at sea and it was after the fourth time he had nearly cut his own throat with his still trembling hands that he gave in and decided to grow a beard. He could shave it when he recovered.

 

It was a full month before he felt even slightly human again. Doctor Frazier had become the bane of his existence and refused him permission to attend to work until he could walk to the fort unaided. James became winded walking to his study. He had been visited by Captain Groves who he had ordered to send reports for him to read. Theo Groves cheerfully agreed to each order then did no such thing – when he visited he claimed Doctor Frazier was having someone intercept his runners.

 It was a week after he had managed to return to work that he began to get invites again. This surprised him a little after his correspondence before his illness until Captain Groves told him his declined invites had only increased his reputation. “They think you are well mannered enough to pen excuses when struck with a fever,” Theo told him, and James could have cursed the lot of them. But Theo also mentioned that Miss Swann had been accepted back into society. “After all,” Theo said – as serious as James had ever seen him. “There are a lot fewer options for the guest list these days.”

Port Royal did seem half a ghost town. The streets seeming empty and more than a third of the shops on the main street closed due to illness and death.  Yellow Fever had struck indiscriminately and while those in society had been able to afford more medical help – there was no reliable treatment for the disease even from the best medical practitioner. James had been acutely aware of how lucky he was and as he passed those dressed in black – wearing black armbands or absent entirely, his sense of his own mortality was greater than it had ever been when wounded.

 

The first event he attended was muted and he saw Elizabeth across the room and wondered if he could thank her or if she would prefer to avoid him still. But she came to meet him to his surprise. “I was hoping to say you look more yourself,” she said. “But I don’t think I can.” James wondered at the insult for a moment until he realised. She meant the beard. He still had not shaved. An appalling laziness really but he kept it neatly trimmed and it made him look less gaunt. “It rather suits you," she said. 

“Thank you,” he said blurting it out and then making it clear he did not mean for the compliment to his appearance. “For your care. I mean. I could not have had better and I am very grateful you made an exception to your vocation on my behalf.”

“You’re welcome,” she said seeming quite startled. “I thought I was the last person you would want help from.”

“No,” he said. “Not at all. Though I’ll be quite grateful to never have the tonic with garlic in again if I can avoid it, I am still quite sure I would not have recovered without you.”

“I am sure you would,” she said. “You are stubborn enough. And that is the most effective fever reducer they have at the hospital. Don’t make that face!”

James had perhaps grimaced involuntarily. “Why was it sweet?” he asked. “I have never had anything like it.”

“Oh, it had honey in,” Elizabeth told him. “But then all of the medicine does – I went through a dozen jars – you weren’t eating. It was the only nourishment you got.” James thought he might never eat honey again but he would not say so. He could not fault her logic. “But I am glad to see you up and about,” she continued – “I think it took me much more than a month before I got out of bed after my fever – well I don’t think it was as bad as yours. I will admit my memory of that time is not exact.”

James remembered she had said she had had yellow fever. “I am sorry to hear you were so ill,” he said only to be surprised when Elizabeth shrugged.

“It turned out to be a saving grace,” she said. “I had just ended my engagement to Will and my father was furious. He was going to send me to England for a season and nothing I said would budge him. Then I nearly died and that finally persuaded him to compromise.”

“I see,” James said.

“That must sound callous,” Elizabeth said with a sideways glance. “But it made it easier in other ways. I wondered if I had done the right thing. And then I nearly died and I was quite sure I had. Nothing like a brush with death to make it clear what you really want.”

 

“Indeed,” James said staring at her. “I have found so myself.” This seemed to stop her in her tracks and she looked at him interested and James thought he should speak now. Before he lost his nerve. “I am not entirely sure if what I want is still on offer,” he said. “It is something I was churlish enough to ignore when I had not yet seen sense.”

Elizabeth clearly took his meaning. She watched him wide-eyed for a long moment. “I think I can say with confidence that might be possible,” she said sounding to his relief rather pleased indeed by his words.

James felt nearly dizzy with relief himself. It had been quite clear to him since before he had even left King’s House that his feelings for Elizabeth were unchanged and there was no more denying it. His dreams of her had only become more frequent since he had been removed from her presence.

Elizabeth interrupted his reverie then. “But the previous conditions would stand,” she said seriously. “If a limited offer would still appeal.” She looked dreadfully worried as if he had forgotten what she had offered him and would snatch away his agreement.

“I am aware,” he said. “Perhaps my brush with my mortality has made me realise things are no less valuable for being fleeting.” James had wrestled over this more than anything but if once was all she was offering – then once would have to be enough for him. He would rather have that much of her than nothing at all.

“Well,” Elizabeth said, “not that _fleeting_ I should hope.” She took his arm. “I have been meaning to suggest to you Admiral, that now you are well you could pay some calls. There are several of your midshipman in the hospital because of lack of beds in the infirmary. I am sure seeing you would lift their spirits.” And of course, James remembered. Elizabeth had a private office in the hospital that would be much more suited to this sort of planning than a party where anyone could overhear them no matter how discrete they were.


	6. Discretion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Elizabeth manage their discrete conversation.

When James called at the hospital he had waited a few days – he was rather conscious to not appear overly keen. Though belatedly he wondered if perhaps he had taken that too far he did not want to appear disinterested.

He did not appear to be much of a comfort to the recovering midshipmen who seemed to take his visit as an indication they should hurry their recovery. The three boys were past the fever stage but plagued with exhaustion and yet still falling over themselves to salute and assure him they would be back at duty any day now. James had to convince one of them - Midshipman Wilson to get back into bed as he had clambered up to stand to attention and looked like to faint. He wasn’t sure who was more relieved when he left – him or them.

 

Elizabeth’s office was small and rather busy – it was neat enough considering the mess of the study he had briefly glimpsed at King’s House. She did not have a desk – but a repurposed table with a rather rickety chair. Every surface was covered with something -there were baskets of bandages such as he had seen her with on the dock, piles of folded sheets. Tidy piles of paperwork held down by an interesting variety of paperweights were spread across the table. Large shells, what looked like a bit of shrapnel and surprisingly a single silver ingot stamped with the VOC symbol of the East India company. It was a ridiculous amount of money to leave lying around. She looked up from the paperwork when he appeared in the door and James would never tire of her looking pleased to see him, her eyes bright and her smile cheeky as she ushered him in and firmly closed the door behind him.

He could not help but take in the room still - in one corner, there was a neatly made trundle bed piled with clean uniforms. Elizabeth watched his gaze and raised an eyebrow at him.

 

“It’s not really an office,” she said. “One of the staff quarters really – they’ve turned over to me. Still, it’s useful.” She would not let the glance go of course, and she pointed to the trundle. “I even have a bed if we can’t think of something else.” James was taken aback and Elizabeth laughed. “I’m joking,” she said. “It’s not that private. Or that comfortable. I’ve stayed here all of twice, I only get away with it when my father is away. But it will do for a more discrete conversation.”

“Quite.” James said he could not help but think of the conversation as indiscrete even though they were alone. “Only first – I have a condition of my own.” He had not anticipated this going well but Elizabeth to his surprise looked delighted.

“Oh?” she said. He was quite sure her delight would vanish when she heard his condition, but he still was not prepared for her to ask. “Do you have a request? Something I should wear? Or do? Something improper?”

 

James was silenced by the very notion – as if he would. Did she really think so little of him – that having come to this he would ask more of her or treat her like some sort of doxy just because he had agreed to this. That his agreeing to this much impropriety meant he had no respect for her. And then he was further surprised when she came around her make shift desk and leaned up to press the briefest of kisses to his lips. The very touch of her skin to his made wonder how he had ever managed to say no to her. But it made him realise she was teasing. Again.

“I’m sorry,” she began pulling away, but she had jolted him back to the moment and James found he could no longer resist her no matter how she tormented him. And he pulled her close to him again to capture her mouth with his – there was nothing brief about this kiss as James held her against him and devoured her mouth revelling in the feel of her in his arms. Elizabeth had made a small squeak of surprise and then almost at once she was kissing him back and her hands were caught up in his coat, holding tight to him. James felt like the world had dissolved into the taste of her and the soft noises of approval she made into his mouth. He would have let it go on much longer if she had not pulled away from him. She glanced up at him, her dark eyes wide and sparkling with pleasure then licked her lips looking unbearable coquettish. “I do not mean to be awful,” she said. “But I just can’t help myself – I have never been good at behaving but even if I were it’s hard to know how to when planning an illicit liaison. So, I tease instead.”

 

“I don’t mind,” James said. It was mostly true, and he certainly minded a lot less since he had decided to go along with this. After all, he had no better idea of how this should go and of course it would not be easy. Elizabeth was unmarried and under her father’s protection and they would not have not this far if they weren’t trusted by her father. As much freedom as Elizabeth had managed to gather for herself – she was still closely observed by society if only for the purpose of disapproving of her. James himself could do very little without attracting the attention of the matchmakers. Elizabeth slipped out of his arms and took herself over to the trundle bed, she shoved uniforms out of the way and sat and waved at the chair. “Come,” she said. “Tell me your condition, James. And then we can work out the rest.”

James waited for a beat and then ignored the chair and sat beside her on the bed and took one hand in hers. There was a certainly pointless to formality at this point and he thought – he knew, he would have to be convincing here. Elizabeth immediately slipped her fingers through his and held tightly and he felt his heart skip a beat at even that much closeness. “I know and understand your objections to the institute of marriage,” he began. Elizabeth’s hand stiffened in his and he rushed on before he put her off entirely. “I am not trying to circumvent them. But if there are consequences of _once_ – however unlikely that maybe I feel perhaps then a more conventional course would be the only one to be pursued.” It was incredibly awkward to ask Elizabeth for even a conditional consideration of marriage – dangerously close to retreading old ground and yet there was some part of him that could not consider leaving her with a natural child due to her own stubbornness.

 

Elizabeth startled him by suddenly squeezing his hand tight, she looked relieved. “If there is a child we will marry,” she said. The easy agreement was not the result he expected. “I would hardly want to deal with that on my own,” she added – at least explaining her acquiescence. “But I hope you know what kind of wife you would be getting. I shan’t change.”

“No,” James said, still relieved. “I know exactly. I would not expect you to change.” If such a thing came to pass – there were always nurses and perhaps she might spend the afternoons she would no longer have to spend on ladylike pursuits with the child. If there was one. And then he realised that he was thinking far too much about what – he had hardly expected her to agree to even that condition.

 

“But only that particular consequence,” Elizabeth told him in a firm tone as if he might expand his condition. “You shan’t scare me to church with a gossip or any of that nonsense.”

“Of course not,” James said a little offended – if he had wanted to force her hand – he could have been a lot more obstinate three years ago. But then Elizabeth kissed him again – she was much more sweet with her kisses than he had been. Gentle and a little tentative, though no less distracting for it. James felt like a boor for grabbing her up even if it was all he could do not to repeat the act. But Elizabeth was as ever ahead of him and broke off from kissing him to get back to the point and purpose of their appointment.

“My father has plans to go to Morant Bay,” she told him. “He’ll be gone at least a fortnight. And from Doctor Frazier’s comments, I take it your staff do not live in.”

 

James’ staff as it was, consisted of two maids – currently – a housemaid and kitchen maid – both new to service and returning to their family homes each evening. It occasionally appeared they mostly squabbled about which duties were whose, but basic meals appeared, and the place was clean. “I was not here at Michaelmas,” he pointed out. It had meant there were very few staff available when he had set up his household. It had not seemed that important at the time.

“It was not a criticism,” Elizabeth said. “But if my father is away I can easily tell my maid I’m staying here. No-one will be the wiser if I am elsewhere.”

 

It was at once, extraordinarily risky – for Elizabeth to just come to his house where anyone could see her and unbelievably tempting. To have her in his own bed for a whole night instead of some snatched fumble somewhere.

“What if you are seen?” he said.

“Everyone knows I am on hospital business often enough,” she said. “It is no less chancy than stealing away at a party to find an unused bedroom.”

James still did not like the notion and Elizabeth could clearly read his face. “James, I know that I seem to attract attention,” she said. “But it is not all due to the gossips. I want to be seen. I want them to know I don’t care what they think. That I am happy in the life I chose.” She grinned cheekily. “One would think you of all people would know I am quite capable of sneaking. And disappearing when I want to. My father was forever demanding you send your men out looking for me.”

That was true enough, though James did not agree it was the same. Children were routinely ignored as beneath the notice of their elders and Elizabeth had exploited that mercilessly in her younger days. But he had to admit he could not think of a better solution and he was too caught up in the notion to back out now.

 

It was a week later that James came home from the fort to find Elizabeth pacing in his drawing room. She was dressed rather plainly and had gone as far as to wear maid’s cap and he could not deny it was ingenious. It hid her distinctive hair and most people ignored servants though he had trouble believing Elizabeth could truly play the part. There was nothing deferential about her demeanour on the best day let along when she was carrying out a scheme.

“Hello,” she said, and he was startled to see she appeared rather nervous. She had caught her skirt up in one hand to twist the material and there was a hint of wide-eyed uncertainty about her that concerned him. “You haven’t changed your mind?”

“No,” James said startled. Had she? Did she regret this now she was here?

“You looked so disapproving,” Elizabeth said. “Just for a moment.”

James blinked and smiled. “Well,” he said. “I don’t really like that cap.” There was an awkward moment before they both laughed. She pulled the cap off and her hair fell down in a mass of loose curls, glinting gold in the low evening light.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You looked entirely unlike yourself for a moment and I worried you might have regretted your choice.”

“I worried I might have been too bold,” Elizabeth said. “Coming uninvited.”

James felt foolish. “I did not realise you were awaiting an invite.”

“Obviously,” Elizabeth said. “You just expect me to turn up. Why would I not just arrange things for my own convenience.”

James could not help but find her indignation sweet in the circumstance. “Well,” he said. “The last thing I would want to do is inconvenience you,” he said gravely, “under the circumstances.” And he knew he had said the right thing when she laughed.

“Come on then,” she said, “I am sure you don’t wish me to attempt a seduction in your drawing room.”

“I am not sure I would have the wherewithal to object,” James said as he took her hand and led her upstairs to his bedchamber.


	7. Attainment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth's curiosity is satisfied. Sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note rating change. :)

It was unreal to have Elizabeth in his bedchamber, James could admit to himself, even with the nights he had spent in the King’s house with her watching over him. It was not the same as her presence in his actual chamber though he had dreamed of it ever since they had discussed it. And if he was honest with himself – for some years before that.

 

It seemed they had been kissing for an age when Elizabeth began to undress him – she had removed his wig early on running one hand through his uneven mop of hair. “What a butcher’s job Frazier did,” she said “He wouldn’t let me you know, said it was improper. But I could have done a much better job.” She let one hand linger on his bearded cheek, “but I suppose it goes well with this.”

“Do I look roguish,” James said, it was of course, typical that she approved of something that made him look so unlike himself.

“No,” Elizabeth said. “It is only a beard, James! There is only so much it can achieve. I suppose it makes you look a little less formal – even in uniform.” And having voiced that opinion she began to fuss with his clothing, pushing his coat from his shoulders and her nimble fingers had his waistcoat undone in an instant. She had no problem leaning into to steal kisses while she did this and James wanted to return the favour, but he could barely think let alone be so forward. He resorted to catching her up in his arms before she had him completely unclothed and holding her so close she could not carry on. He buried his face in her neck and nuzzled at her neck and let himself catch up her golden hair. She giggled, and he paused. “Don’t stop,” she protested in a tone that was gratifying. “It only tickled for a moment.”

 

James kissed her again and again and tried to unpin the front of her dress with his shaking hands. Then he realised he was not the only one shaking – Elizabeth trembled just a little and he could not help but wonder if she had second thoughts but then she was kissing him. Not gently as she had in her office but hungrily and she seemed to melt against him. James tried to keep his head – he did not dare touch her clothing again. He wanted to focus on making sure she was not uncertain and not the soft chamomile and lemon scent of her hair and the slender curves pressed against him as he held her. Of course, this only gave her more ammunition as she slipped one leg between his to press her thigh against the hardest cock stand James had ever had in his life.

“You do want me then,” she said. As if her presence here in his bedroom was not evidence enough.

“It was never about want,” James said helplessly. “When I said no.” He did not want to discuss this and he returned his attention to dress only to lose focus when she went for the fastening of his breeches. In the end, she practically steered him to the bed nearly tripping him on the unfastened clothing and pushing him to sit while she stepped away to unpin her dress and unfasten the skirt.

 

“You do know,” she asked, “how it goes?” The question took some time to penetrate when she was deftly removing her clothing – it was a simpler dress, not so many layers as she might normally wear, and she was down to stays, shift and a petticoat very quickly and then soon enough just the shift and he could not help but think of the day of his proposal. Of her standing in nothing but a wet shift and petticoat that left little to the imagination. The shift she had on now seemed to hide even less than the one she had worn that day. The gauzy material allowing him to make out the soft curves of her breasts, the dark points of her nipples and the shape the darker hair between her legs. “I suppose we can work it out together,” she said bringing him back to her with a jolt.

“I know how it goes,” James said indignantly suddenly very conscious he had done no more to undress himself. No wonder she was doubting his basic competence. Why could he not think? He pushed off his breeches and stockings – he had lost his shoes early on and now he only had his shirt and shirt tails for modesty so in that they were equal. Elizabeth had left his clothing scattered about the room but her own she had neatly folded out of the way on a chair before she came back to his arms.

“Good,” she said. “My sources are never that detailed. I mean I’ve read all sorts and I’ve asked around, but I’ve never been told much.”

 

James dreaded to think, and he pulled her close for another kiss and dared to let his hands slide down her back and rest on her backside. She jumped a little and James withdrew his hands. “Don’t stop,” she said. “I don’t mislike it. It’s just new.” To prove her point she pressed closer to him and began to pull up the shirt. James did not object though he could not stop himself saying.

“You must say if you wish to stop. If you change your mind.”

“I won’t,” she said. “I know my own mind, I know my own wants, James. Haven’t I made that quite clear?”

James smiled. It was true she could not be described as indecisive.

“I want this,” she continued – her brown eyes fixed on his even as one hand slipped beneath his shirt and took him in hand. “I want you.” James let his hands slip back to the soft curve of her backside and pulled her against him she drove him utterly mad with her touch.

“Elizabeth,” he warned, his breath a pant against her neck and she only looked pleased with herself clambering over him to the bed and settling herself in his sheets.

“Come here then,” she said softly, and James followed caught completely in her spell.

 

Even once they were in bed Elizabeth was quite keen to direct matters. Touching him intimately again and again though only ever briefly as if she wanted to have him wrung out with need. And through it all, she kept telling him she wanted this in a breathy voice that only roused him more.  He groaned her name against her skin and she looked entirely thrilled. “I want you inside of me,” she said her voice a soft purr in his ear - the tone not at all that of an innocent. “I want you to make me a woman James, don’t you want that?” She was choosing her words deliberately – he was sure in an attempt to drive him utterly mad, yet he could not help but like hearing it.

“I think you are already more of a woman than I ever thought possible,” James told her. “And you know it.” He barely dared touch her. His hands slipping over the silk of the shift she wore - she might have dressed plainly but he was sure this must be the finest shift she owned and that touched him too. He cupped one breast and smoothed a thumb over her nipple and was gratified when she gasped. He wanted to touch her but despite his claim earlier he did not feel an authority at all on seeing to her pleasure.

“Then show me,” Elizabeth said, the shift was hiked to her waist now and her legs parted, and he could feel the heat of her so close to him.  “Have me James – I want that. Show me how it goes.” She leaned to whisper in his ear. “ _Please._ ” There was a flush on her cheeks and her dark eyes had never seemed so beautiful – filled with want as they were, and he was as lost to lust as he had ever been.

 

James shifted against her, his manhood slipping over her slick curls and she clutched at him with a moan that seemed to echo down his spine. She arched a little and then he pressed inside of her tight sheath. He closed his eyes for a long moment – sure he could not cope with the sensation of her hot and tight around his cock and he was sure he would disgrace himself. “Christ,” he said holding onto her and unable to help himself rocking against her. Into her. Trying to go slowly and finding himself without control at all. “Christ, Elizabeth,” he murmured against her neck and it was only then he realised she was deathly silent – he could not even hear her breath against him and he blinked down at her, she was biting her lip, holding her breath and utterly still. The only movement was the flutter of her closed eyelids and he moved again – he could seem to stop himself from moving and then she whimpered and so he asked, “Elizabeth do you want me to stop?” He would stop if she asked. Of course, he would. That would do it. How could he not do whatever she commanded him in this situation?

“No,” she said her voice suddenly very quiet, “I only need a minute, it’s alright James.” And she pulled him down for another kiss and shifted beneath him, tilting her hips and he was further in her and overtaken by the feel of her and as she tangled one hand in his hair as if to stop him going anywhere. And having her hold him – that and the feel of her was enough and he crushed her mouth with his, shuddering to a halt shaking with pleasure so intense he almost forgot he had failed entirely in reciprocating the sensation. He slipped off her and was going to say something – anything. An apology for _fleeting_ perhaps when Elizabeth turned away from him curling in on herself and her shoulders shook and James felt his blood turn to ice. She was _crying_.

 

James had never felt more of a brute and he could hardly offer comfort when he was the source of her distress and yet he could not ignore her upset.

He lay there helpless for a long moment listening to the soft sound of her weeping. He was under no illusions how badly he had failed her – he had given her no pleasure and hurt her besides. Words seemed a poor offering in comparison, but it was all he had. He reached for her shoulder and patted a little. “Elizabeth I am so sorry,” he said hesitantly. “I did not mean to hurt you.”

 

It was an incredible relief when she turned and blinked her damp eyes at him and then turned into his arms to sniffle. He held her tightly – if she wanted comfort from him it was certainly owed however surprised he was that she wanted it. “Oh, stop it,” she said. “I must seem a complete child. It could hardly be helped – everyone knows there is pain for women the first time.” She wiped her eyes on his shirt. “I didn’t know it would hurt so much. I should have asked for more than once. I thought we had one night – that we could get the first time over with and have all night after my maidenhead was dealt with but now,” she looked at up him her dark eyes still damp, and James could not help but rub her back as pathetic an offering as it was, and she relaxed against him. “I think I may need a little longer to recover.”  

James could only stare at her – he hardly thought anything about his performance would call for a repeat.  Certainly not tonight after that response. But if she wanted more . . . he dared to lean in and press a kiss to her brow. “It would be ungentlemanly of me to deny you an occasion such as you have given me,” he said carefully. “If you only want once – it should be a _satisfactory_ once.”

 

Elizabeth lit up in a manner that seemed undeserved to him. “Truly,” she said. “I hardly must have been much good – lying there like a lump and then crying.”

James had no idea what she might have done other than lie there and he did not dare ask. And it felt cruel and shameful to tell her it may have been the most wonderful thing he’d ever experienced when it had gone so poorly for her. “Truly,” he said. “But next time if there is any pain – you must say Elizabeth – I would never wish to hurt you. I should have stopped. I should not have been so rough.” He had tried to be gentle but clearly, his control was lacking.

“You weren’t rough,” Elizabeth said. “Not very. It’s not that,” and then she blushed, and he was astounded that she could still be embarrassed given circumstance. “I suppose it is your fault it hurt,” she said, “but there is nothing you can do about it.”

 

“Elizabeth, of course, there must be,” James insisted. “I would do anything to not hurt you – you must know that.”

“I know,” she said. “But there are limits,” she said, and he was surprised at the amusement in her tone and another blush on her cheek. And then she leaned in to whisper in his ear. “It’s just that you’re well – you are rather larger than I expected.”

“Pardon,” James said nearly swallowing his tongue. He did feel clumsy and large next to Elizabeth who was so delicate and slender but surely, she could not mean what he thought.

 “I can hardly claim expertise on the matter,” she said. “But I made a very concert effort to persuade Will to pre-empt our wedding vows and I made _some_ headway. And I used to spy on the midshipman swimming before my governess got wind of it. I thought I knew what to expect. And it seems I underestimated.”

James opened his mouth and then closed it again without saying anything. He had no words. _None_ at all to respond to that and then Elizabeth bit her lip. “You think me awful again,” she said morosely.

“Of course not,” he said almost automatically. He could hardly deny it and to agree with her seemed like the worst sort of ego.

“I’m given to understand it might be a benefit usually,” she added thoughtfully. “Now the worst is over.” Then she curled into his arms and tilted her head up. James had no answer for her comment, so he pulled her close for another kiss and settled into the pillows holding her close.

 

James was woken the next day before dawn by the sound of Annie struggling to set the fire – it was his usual start to the day and he sat up in a panic only to relax when he saw that the hangings around the bed had been loosened during the night hiding them. Elizabeth was still curled up in his arms and every bit as awake but there was a disarray to the bedclothes that hinted this had been a close call. She had pulled a blanket up so that she would just be a lump if Annie should closer and for all the close call she looked amused. James nearly apologised but before he could say a word in his sleep-befuddled state, Elizabeth pressed a finger to his lips to shush him and pulled him under the blanket to join her hide out, so she could kiss him.

 

The crackling of the fire could be heard after several muttered oaths and it was only when the clanging of the coal kettle and the click of the door made it clear Annie was on her way that James let go of a breath.

“Thank goodness she makes such a noise,” Elizabeth said in a whisper. “I meant to see to the bed hangings last night.”

“I should have remembered,” James said, and Elizabeth laughed.

“Oh, what if you hadn’t,” she shrugged. “What could she report – that you have a blonde mistress? No-one would think me – they think you chase me down in the street to harangue me.”

“I was rather hoping to correct that impression,” James said a little morosely.

“Anyone who knows you knows better,” Elizabeth said. “You wouldn’t harangue me when I actually deserved it.” She ran one hand through her rumpled hair and sat up. “Now,” she said. “How do you feel about playing maid?”  

 

There was a stain on her shift, James saw, as he helped her on with her petticoat and stays and layers.  An irregular mark of blood that only served to shame him further for hurting her. He could not help but stare where he knew it was after it was hidden by her petticoats.  He was soon dismissed from service and relegated to holding pins while Elizabeth dressed herself after twice stabbing his finger. He could not help but wonder if she would really want to chance such with him again. “What are you thinking?” Elizabeth said after asking for a pin twice and being ignored because he was so caught in his thoughts. She took them off them and finished her dressing – her stomacher was crooked but then her maid presumably would think she had dressed at the hospital.

“Only that perhaps you should have held out for someone who knew what they were doing,” James said quietly.

“No,” Elizabeth said. “That was a silly thing to say. I’m quite pleased with my choice.” Then she glanced out of the window, “ I should go before there are more than tradespeople about. But I will see you in a few days – as soon as I feel up to it.”

James was left startled by that – so soon? But Elizabeth was gone before he could attempt an objection. And it was more than surprise she had left him with he could admit when he was alone. He was filled with anticipation.


	8. Approaching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth and James continue to work on satisfaction.

James could not help but think about the night he had spent with Elizabeth. He was certain he would dream of being with Elizabeth every night for the rest of his life even if he still felt waylaid by guilt for hurting her so. It still felt unreal that she wanted more from him given the main reason was that he had disappointed her.

It was, therefore, more than a surprise when he came home from dinner with his officers only two days later to find her waiting for him. Not in his sitting room this time – but in his bedchamber.

She had already stripped to her shift and her bright hair was let down about her shoulders. She looked completely at home lying on his bed and James tried to push that dangerous thought aside – she was at ease – not at home. This would never be her home. It was no good wanting more than what she could give him.

“Elizabeth,” he said with a swallow. “Are you quite sure this is “  he began trailing off. Enough time? A good idea? He could not think how to phrase it. He had not seen her in town at all since she had left his home that morning which he had fretted about. It was unlike Elizabeth to take rest and his sheets had been marked as well as her shift and of course, he could not forget she had _cried_. 

“Quite sure,” she said stretching out in a way that edged her shift higher and bared even more of her long legs. “Come here, James.”

Of course, despite his worries, he went to her at once. He discarded his coat and waistcoat and wig and was as careless with his clothing as she had been when she stripped him.

 

James did not mean to press her though he began to doubt if such a thing was possible particularly when she had put herself in his bed near naked. She had felt very free to touch him last time, which had done little for his self-control and he had barely dared touch her. So, he did not remove any further clothing as he joined her on the bed. When she pulled him close for kisses he tried to let his hands wander a bit more freely. Elizabeth did not seem to disapprove of this,  her own hands went immediately to unfasten his breeches. He caught up one hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Not yet,” he said hopefully only for her face to fall. “I am trying to improve on _fleeting_ ,” he told her and understanding dawned and she smiled mischievously.

“Alright,” Elizabeth said. “I suppose in that case we can allow a moment's grace.” Though she still managed to squirm against him in a way that gave the lie to her words.

James found that with his hands on her breasts, he could coax sounds out of Elizabeth that was at once extremely gratifying and entirely maddening. Even the way she breathed seemed to make him want her more as he kissed down her neck and teased at the peak of one breast then the other. When she leaned in and breathed in his ear, “James please I want _more_ ,” he was incapable of refusing her entirely and he inched his hand down her body, resting it on her thigh briefly before he let himself touch her. It was at least a reassurance, he told himself. If she did not like his touch she would not want more. If it hurt – surely she would say and he would not have to worry about hurting her again.

But Elizabeth did like his touch, when he slid a finger inside her, she pressed back against him and murmured his name and she gasped when he added another and he felt quite desperate, driven to distraction by the sight of her, the sound of her approval and the feel of him. He pressed his forehead against hers and watched her eyes as he teased her with his touch and she squirmed and did not seem remotely reluctant. “I am beginning,” she said her voice breathy, “to see the appeal of this.” She bit her lip and then directed. “And I think it will only be more appealing now that your moment’s grace is up.” And then she was undressing him and James wanted her to see the appeal so badly he could not argue.

But he managed to have enough control over himself to pull away and deal with his own clothing and catch up her hand before she could touch him. “I assure you I do not need more encouragement,” he said. He was already more than ready and he managed to take his time as he pressed his attentions on her again with a lot more care, sliding slowly inside her while watching her for any sign of discomfort.

There were none that he saw and of course not to be outdone, she watched him just as intently wide-eyed and curious. He stilled when he was in her this time. He had learnt that much, at least, “alright?” he asked and she nodded.

“I am not a martyr, James,” she said. “I promise I would not be here if I was not ready for more,” she arched her hips. “Don’t tease – I’m starting to think I would settle for fleeting!”

If every inch of James’ being was not focussed on where their bodies were joined, he would have laughed. He would never be over how resilient she was and then he began to move and she voiced her approval and James could not think of anything but the sensation of her.

 

 

It was very different after as well. Elizabeth only looked more beautiful, curled in his arms her golden hair in disarray and spread across his pillow. Her cheeks were flushed, her dark eyes sparkling, and she looked so entirely pleased with herself that he almost felt smug. Almost. When he thought the first time with her was the most wonderful thing he had ever experienced he had clearly been lacking in imagination. Tonight – being with her as she was restless and pleading as he thrust himself into her had made him realise how wrong he had been. But as much as she had enjoyed his attentions this time he had not exactly delivered what he said he would. When he had stilled gasping her name and shuddering with the sensation. Elizabeth had stretched under him and pulled him close for another kiss. “What a difference,” she had said in a breathy tone that sounded a little shy. “You are not to take this as a criticism,” she added, “but I never wanted that to stop.” James swallowed, he would not take it as the criticism she meant. He knew he had managed better than fleeting this time. Her enthusiasm had helped his self-control somewhat, as much as he wanted her. When she had been gasping beneath him he had not wanted to reach his crisis – he had wanted to listen to her like that forever.  But he knew very well that the overwhelming feeling where the connection between them had felt like his entire world was not something he had managed to share with her. As content, as she had professed herself he knew in a way she did not that was more to this than having a pleasant sensation than a painful one.

When Elizabeth still curling close to him murmured, “thank you,” against his skin James felt a complete heel and an utter failure.

 

“I am glad the experience improved for you,” he said slipping his arms around her – he could not resist the closeness. “But I feel I should inform you I have not really delivered _satisfactory_ yet.”

Elizabeth looked bemused in the low light. “I feel satisfied,” she offered despite her words only a moment ago. James decided a demonstration was in order. He let one hand fall to her thigh and inch upwards only to be rewarded by her shivering against him and she bit her lip – want clear on her face. She clearly was not satisfied entirely but she pushed his hand away. “You are making me seem greedy,” she said. “I liked what we did. It didn’t hurt. It felt marvellous. What more is there?”

James was sure he would never be able to explain it properly but he fumbled for the words to try.

“As wonderful as intimacy feels,” he said carefully. Because it did feel wonderful – not just the end where he lost control but every moment with her. “It builds to a peak.”

It was almost a relief to be interrupted. “I think perhaps that only happens for men,” Elizabeth ventured. “Men have to have a release – for children but some women can find the journey pleasant. If they are lucky – no-one I asked about it mentioned any more than that.” She pulled a face.  “And I am sure loose women have to pretend to like it more – for the sake of repeat custom if nothing else.”

It was difficult to argue with her given she was well aware he had no prior experience and he could hardly mention tavern tales and the sort of boasts he heard from fellow officers in their cups and before he could even try to formulate an argument Elizabeth continued.

“But if you want to try again until you are satisfied that I am satisfied,” she added. “I would raise no objection.”

 

James was not able to bring Elizabeth to a peak that night or in the dawn hours of the morning after they had hidden from the maid. But she seemed very keen on his attention anyway, she clung to him as he thrust into her and was rather descriptive in her approval.

She returned the next night and the one after. She made it quite clear she was not convinced there more than what they already share. She had taken to showing up in breeches and a shirt though she is often undressed and in bed when he finds her, and it takes her nothing to get dressed in these which is just as well as she normally has to leave in a hurry because he cannot let her go even as she reminds him the streets of Port Royal will be growing busier, sneaking through his house. The outfit to be frank does not help. She is a most unconvincing boy and it barely feels like she is covering herself at all when he can see the entire outline of her figure in her clothing. It means most mornings she leans him aroused even if he has just had her.

One morning as she extracted herself from his arms to leave, she teased. “You did not have to claim you were unsatisfactory, you know,” she said pulling away. “I would have come back just if you asked.”

James was speechless – that she would say so. That she would think him so base. That he would claim a lack of prowess just to bed her more. He was given no chance to argue of course as Elizabeth blew him a kiss and slipped out of his room. He could chase her but while Elizabeth had always snuck out without attracting the maids’ attention James had no such confidence that him chasing her to contradict her would go unobserved.

 

James wished he had some argument. In the nights he had spent bedding Elizabeth they had certainly tried various ways of being together. Mostly initiated by Elizabeth who thought nothing of telling him harder or faster. Or occasional grabbing at him and ordering him to carry on just like that. All of which drove him a little mad with lust. Anything she approved of vocally had that effect and she was always very vocal. But whenever he was done – however hard he tried to please her there was always a slight moue of disappointment before she pulled him close for kisses. James wanted her to have more. One night concerned it was his failing – that he could not last long enough to please her properly, he tried a different tack. After the first bout of lovemaking, he pinned her to the bed with the kisses and thrust into her with his fingers as she gasped her approval – it was no time again until he was ready again then he took her again. This went over very well and when after he had spilled himself inside her again and she still had not peaked he reached for her again. Elizabeth snatched his hand. “Dearest stop,” she said. “That was splendid but if you persist I won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” Which made James feel even more oafish and clumsy and undeserving of her affection as she curled into his arms.

“I did not mean to hurt you,” he said.

“You didn’t,” she said. “I’m not sore, just tired. You have never really hurt me, James, stop fussing.”

James was not fussing, and her words were not true. He remembered her tears and the blood and how she had laid there utterly still.

“It wasn’t even that bad the first time,” Elizabeth said reading him easily as always. “I went home and had a hot bath and felt fine.”

“You cried,” James said. It was not as if she was easily moved to tears.

“I did,” Elizabeth said. “And there was a little pain but it was more relief,” she said. “That it had happened. Even once I was here in your room you were asking if I was sure. I was convinced you would change your mind before we got to bed.”

“Did it mean so much to you?” James said unable to hide his wonder that it might. It explained her rush at least. “An experience?”

“It did,” Elizabeth said. “And it was not just an experience.” James found himself holding his breath for a moment that it meant more. Elizabeth curled into him and was quiet for a long moment. “It was something I got to choose,” she said. “That I got to have even though I shouldn’t.” James deflated a little but tried not to let it show – she had not promised him anything more than an experience. “And it’s my freedom,” she said unexpectedly. “Forever. Even if my father changes his mind and tries to insist I marry. I can’t. I’m ruined now. No-one would want me.” She sounded so utterly thrilled about this that James could not help but smile even if how she planned to communicate this to her father in such an event should have concerned him.

“I know you fret,” Elizabeth added. “That you have not satisfied me, but James, you have given me pleasure, freedom and something everyone said I couldn’t have so I promise you I feel no such lack.” James could not agree with this and when she curled into his arms. “We only have a few nights left,” she said. “Then my father will be home. I just want to us to enjoy them and not have you fret so much.”

James could not say anything to that, not to her face anyway. Who was he to dictate what she should want from this? But he did not intend to let this end without giving Elizabeth every bit of the experience she deserved. He had hoped he would be able to work this out – to come to it naturally and discover what would please her. But if he only had a few nights with her then that was not fair – he would have to go to a more direct source. Something he had considered and discarded because of his own pride. But for Elizabeth’s sake, and for his own selfish desire to have had some part of her, he had abandoned propriety. So he would have to do the same with his pride to give her everything she should have from their encounters.


	9. Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James gets some advice. And puts it into practice.

The next morning, James woke before Elizabeth and thought over his options as he watched her sleep. 

He could think of several possible sources of information. Although Port Royal was much more civilised now than it had been the first time he had been assigned here there was not a port in the world that did not have women of the oldest profession in the world or the houses of ill repute they resided in. Port Royal was no exception.

It seemed a betrayal, of course, to consider visiting such a place even if he could manage to convey that all he wanted was advice. He could only imagine what they might think of such a request. He had tried to convince himself it might seem like easy money but could not quite manage it.

And there was always the chance there could be talk – such behaviour might be expected of sailors, but he could only imagine Elizabeth reaction. He wanted to think she would be angry, but he could only picture her mocking him, her lips curving into a teasing smile. Was he so dissolute? Was she such a bad influence? Could he not have waited until their liaison was over?

 

But there were other options, of course, James had married friends though if it weren’t appalling enough to contemplate asking a man about his marriage bed there was no telling which of them might have wives who actually enjoyed their attention.

Which left him one option.

James had known Theodore Groves since before they had left their school room.

He had always been charming. Especially with women. Even as a boy he had been able to talk his way out of trouble and as a man if his forthright nature and status as a younger son had not attracted matchmakers wanting him for their daughters it had not meant he had gone without notice. He had never shied away from boasting about this attention.

James had spent what spent like half his life trying to get Theo Groves to stop telling him about the women he had bedded, including on one memorable occasion when Theo had been nineteen and James a much wise twenty, when he had spent half a drunken evening describing his encounter with woman who screamed like a cat in heat and scratched just as much only for James to realise with dawning horror that Theo had bedded his aunt.

Theo had been apologetic and defiant all at once insisting that the lady in question was much neglected. Which had, of course, made her no less his uncle's wife and it had nearly come to blows and the end of their friendship. Then a visit home had meant James had been forced to admit he had no more liking for his uncle than his father and if he could not approve Theo's actions he could hardly blame Theo when his Aunt Mary had cornered him in the library and made it quite clear she had a fondness for younger men. 

Still, It seemed ridiculous now that he had listened to this for years and now had ended up wishing that Theo had been a bit more specific.

 

These thoughts distracted him from Elizabeth stirring until she was awake and curling up against him. She tucked her head under his chin and pressed kisses to his chest, moving up until she was nipping at his neck and nuzzling him. He wrapped his arms around her and enjoyed the feel of her and held tight as her mouth found his. She looked entirely settled in his arms and when he pulled away from the kiss he wondered if he would ever be able to wake again in this bed without thinking of these moments.

“I’ve slept in,” Elizabeth said peeking out at the light from the windows.

“You looked very peaceful,” James said – he would never dream of waking her in hopes of further intimacy though he never objected when she woke him. He was given a look that perhaps indicated Elizabeth may have some idea of his opinions there.

“And now I will have to rush off,” she said. “And there is the blasted ball the Williams are hosting tonight. I promised my father I would attend before he left and who knows when I will get away.”

“I think perhaps you might be worth waiting up for,” James said – as he had not already spent his nights waiting for her. But this had the effect he wanted and if she did have to dash she at least did it with a smile and after bestowing him with a farewell kiss.

 

It was easy enough to get Theo into a tavern that night, despite the fact that he was sure Theo also had plans to attend the ball.  

James not been in society the entire week. He had been entirely too keen to return home not knowing when Elizabeth might arrive, and his opinion of society had not altered. Theo was quick to point out that his absence had been noted and much remarked on. “I am sure you have defended me?” James said despite knowing this to be highly unlikely.

“Certainly not,” Theo snorted confirming James’ belief. “I was a catch before you came back you know. Now half the girls end up sitting out the first dance in case you arrive late.”

 

James eyed him. “Are you actually wanting to marry one of these girls or merely persuade them to take some air with you.”

“I keep my options open,” Theo said. “And I am not a complete scoundrel, James. I would never take a girl for a turn around the garden. If I wouldn’t make her an offer if _necessary_. That way madness lies.”

“A great reassurance,” James said wryly, pouring another drink. “And how would Mrs Foster respond to that.” He rather too much of Theo’s current paramour but was sure that would go over badly.

“Rather splendidly,” Theo said. “I am an outlier for her – she prefers married men for her affairs usually. Apparently, they are a less of a nuisance and more grateful for any attention.”

“Hmm,” James said. It was a rather depressing notion. And not the first time he had heard such. Did no-one get married because they liked their spouse?

“I have yet to be dismissed from her chamber,” Theo said smugly. Which was a feat if the talk about Mrs Foster was true - she bored of lovers very quickly. Though there had been an implication that she merely ran through their money quickly which could hardly be said of Theo.

 

“You wouldn’t think a wife would be enough for you?” James said after a long moment – he was trying not to sound disapproving – not when he wanted advice.

“Well I would not want to be a bother,” Theo said cagey. “Young girls are more delicate – need time to get used to these matters and will have enough to be getting used to without my being overly demanding.”

That was an old excuse for unfaithfulness and frankly rather unoriginal coming from Theo. If James had not been in such straights he would have said so. But he could still make a point. “Surely a man with your talents could convince a young wife of the appeal of the marriage bed?” 

Theo seemed to give that consideration. “Well I would not want to scandalise her too much,” Theo said cagily. 

It was a poor opening. But an opening none the less and James took it.

“Dear Lord,” he said. “What are you doing to these women Theo?”

Theo opened his mouth to brag and then paused. “Do you really want to know?” he asked eying James suspiciously. 

Normally James had made it clear he did not approve of Theo’s boldness or his propensity to be rather free with descriptors of women he had bedded so the unusualness of the question clearly had stood out. 

“I think I would rather scandalise a young wife than be considered a nuisance,” James said frankly. And that was hardly entirely a lie if not the precise reason for his asking. If he did marry he would not want to disappoint someone the way he had Elizabeth.

 

 

That gave Theo pause and he was unusually quiet as he considered James’ words.

“A valid point,” he conceded. “Though hard to recover from if you should truly shock her. Anyway,” Theo went on. “The main thing about women,” he added his gaze sticking to the bottle of brandy – it was good to know he did have some shame then. James thought, “Is they are much more complicated than we are. It’s not the act they like best. Mostly. They don’t dislike it,” he added quickly as if defending his own prowess. “Not if you start them off right, they like being touched and teased. I’ve always found a girl might like being swived well enough but it’s nothing impressive to them if she’s not,” Theo paused and settled on, “not properly sounded out.”

Theo took another pull of brandy. “And that’s different for every girl,” he added. Theo then expounded on the women he had bedded and the areas they were sensitive. Their neck, their breasts (James knew that much,) their inner thighs, one woman who had had very sensitive feet. James refused to meet his eye and poured another large brandy.

“Anyway, if you are managing a young innocent she won’t know what she wants,” Theo concluded. “I’ve never bedded a virgin. But there is one area that is usually consistently ah responsive. In my experience.” James reminded himself not to glare. Could Theo not have started with that? “A woman’s quim,” James thought if Theo went on to announce women were sensitive there he might actually hit him, “just above it,” Theo added hurriedly. “There is a particular spot that - if you attend to – well it has always gone over very well for me. I imagine even with a virgin. Pay attention to that until she is thoroughly scandalised and then worry about her maidenhead and I imagine that should do the trick.”

James could concede that was useful –he had been rather specific in touching Elizabeth and had not noticed such but often when she was squirming in his lap, pressing herself against him, there was something there she liked. So it made sense that she may be sensitive in areas he had not focussed on. Given that meant Theo’s words were finally being useful James poured him another brandy.

 

Theo seemed almost relieved to have that particular bit of advice out. “Of course,” he went on. “If she is not too scandalised by that there is always added some variety in other ways. Bend her over something. Get her legs up. I've been told that apparently, it is all about different _angles_.” He paused and looked tremendously pleased with himself and his next words were full of a hint of knowing.  “I have found _spirited_ women like being on top.”

James said nothing. He was hardly going to confirm what Theo was hinting at and besides he was entirely too caught up in that image. Of Elizabeth riding him. While thoroughly satisfied. It was not an image that was easy to shift even while Theo continued to talk.

“I take it the girl who has caught your interest is spirited,” Theo carried on because he had never been subtle. Not the entire time James had known him. “I am not saying you have a type James but if you don’t think she’d mind a bit of scandal . . .”

 

James attempted to look stern. As much as he could in the situation. “I don’t have a girl in mind,” he said. “I am merely planning ahead. If there are any spirited girls amongst the debutants of Port Royal they have been hiding it well.”

“Yes,” Theo said. “It’s almost as if your interest lies elsewhere.” He could be annoyingly perceptive when he wanted to. “Half the town still talks about you and Miss Swann and what might be between you.”

James could have cursed but he did not. He had to be careful. “Yes,” he said dryly. “She refused to be my wife by jilting me in public, spends her time shouting at me or stalking off mid-dance. But I’m confident she’d agree to be my mistress.”

Theo seemed to relax a little with a laugh. “You never know,” he said. “She might like a little scandal.”

James had never been more grateful for brandy except now Theo seemed deep in thought.

“Do you think she would,” he began.

“No,” James said with finality. Too much he realised at once. “Half her complaints are that she has to be proper to keep her father’s approval. Though if you wish to have more brandy thrown in your face, by all means, have at.”

Theo made a face, “True,” he said. “I would not want to get on her bad side. Who knows how much longer her father will indulge her. She may need a husband after all.”

 

James was quite glad to part ways when Theo realised he could not delay going to the ball much longer. He could not fault Theo for having an interest in Elizabeth when he had tried very hard to make it appear his own desire for her had long waned. But he wanted to.

And he did not like Theo’s implication that Elizabeth’s father would run out of patience for her. Surely not, he could not imagine Weatherby Swann ever actually withdrawing support from his daughter even if she did refuse to contemplate marriage. It was the sort of behaviour his own father would take part in and the two men could not be more dissimilar.

Theo made a brief attempt to persuade him along to the ball. James was not going to find a spirited miss to scandalise by sulking at home, Theo pointed out.

“I declined the invite,” James said.

“It will be a crush,” Theo pointed out – no-one will notice.”

James would not embarrass himself by attending an event he had refused the invite for.

“At this rate, your spirited miss better not have much of a dowry if you’re going to have much of a chance,” Theo told him. “You can disprove of society in person if you are there – this way you just look dull.”

That was hardly the blow it might have been James thought as he went home to wait for Elizabeth.

 

She _was_ late as she said. It was the dark of night when she appeared. She still had her hair in a fancy updo from the ball.  It looked incongruous with her plain shirt and breeches but fetching none the less with her pretty golden curls pinned so they cascaded and bared her neck. And she looked different – a little subdued and low in spirit. She smiled at him but it seemed an effort and James did not think he had done anything to offend. “That bad?” James inquired. Of course, Theo Groves could have been indiscreet. It was practically his middle name. But it did not seem to be that.

“Always,” she said wrinkling her nose. “But it’s over now.” There was a pause and she surprised him by admitting. “I thought you would be there.” James thought back to that morning and realised he had not said either way but given that he could not speak to her in public without causing talk he had not thought to clarify.

“I have not been much in society of late,” he said.

“Playing invalid,” she accused fondly but James would not be distracted.

“Did something happen?”

“Of course not,” Elizabeth said. “Does anything ever happen at these things? I forbid you to fret.”

But she let him pull her into his arms, leaning up to nuzzle at his neck and sighing into his mouth when he captured her mouth. “I have been thinking of this all night,” she confessed. “Take me to bed James,” she said.  “I want to forget the rest of Port Royal even exists.”

 

James picked her off feet and carried her to the bed. She kicked off her breeches while still in his arms and was half naked when he set her down and she protested when he did not see to his own clothing. He had a hand on her bare thigh and inching upwards when she quite firmly insisted. “I want you, James, I want you in me, I want to think of nothing but you.”

“I promise you will,” James said parting the curls between her legs with his fingers and hoping he was not lying. She was slick with want and she clawed at his back.

“I want you to _have_ me - not touch me,” she said. Her words came just as his touch slid over the spot he had been looking for. A slight nub of flesh he had hardly noticed before and she arched under him even though his touch was quite tentative. Her response made it clear he had the right spot and her intake of breath was extremely gratifying.

 “Are you quite sure?” he asked, circling that spot and pressing a little firmer “You seem quite keen on my touch.”

 

Elizabeth arched against his hand, her breath heaving. “What are you doing?” she said shakily. “James that -  _Oh_.”

She shivered, and James quickened the circling motion and oppressed a kiss to her neck – to her pulse point. “Making you forget the rest of Port Royal,” he said. He _hoped_. It certainly seemed to be having more impact on Elizabeth than anything else he had tried. She was making the most maddening soft little cries as he pressed his touch against her trying to find the method to this she liked best. She when she began to squirm just a little, moving her hips to push back against his touch, he thought he had it.

It felt wonderful to see her so caught up in his attention – but it was nothing to how it felt to watch her climax break over her like a wave. She cried his name and grabbed his hand to still his touch keeping his fingers pressed against her as she lay there quivering with pleasure. Her eyes were pressed closed for a long moment and then fluttering a little as she looked almost perturbed by the experience. Then she blinked up at him, an almost dreamy expression on her face and smiled slowly. “I see you had to have your own way with regards to satisfactory,” she said in a tone he had never heard from her before.

 

James nodded feeling suddenly bashful. That was almost a scold. “Was it not to your liking?” he asked confused – she had certainly seemed to approve and of course from his own experiences he did not see how she could disapprove, but he had misread her before so many times he could not be sure. Elizabeth only laughed at him.

“Oh dear,” she said. “Have you been standing too close to the guns? Are you losing your hearing already?” She drew him close for a kiss. “I would say it was very much to my liking except I don’t think that would fully convey the depth of the feeling. That was . . .” she trailed off and James decided to tease back.

“Satisfactory?” he suggested. “Scandalising?” He paused and this last suggestion was not so fair, but he said it anyway. “Worth waiting for?” 

Elizabeth flushed, and he could feel her laugh bubble up she was so close to him. She looked alight with happiness and it only made her look more beautiful. “Quite,” she said. “And now it is your turn.” James let her have her way as she pulled at his clothing – he normally did anyway of course but tonight he was too caught up in her and too aroused by watching her pleasure to even think of arguing. Besides they had all night – and once he was not mad with want he could see about making up for making her wait.  


	10. Speculation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A revelation means James agrees to a different kind of scandal.

James was quite willing to be led by Elizabeth who only seemed more keen in his attentions now he had succeeded in pleasing her.

When he slid inside her this time Elizabeth moaned in a voice so given to lust – it was possibly the most erotic thing he’d ever heard. “Christ,” she said with feeling. “Even that feels so much better.” She clung to him as he thrust into her and for a moment looked a little sheepish.

James pressed a kiss to her pulse point and whispered in her ear. “Good,” He was hardly offended. He had wanted this to feel better for her – he had wanted her to be as overwhelmed as he was.

It was so different, James realised quickly, to not feel he had failed her in some fashion. To lose himself in her entirely. Elizabeth having had her pleasure was keen to see him to his and unrelenting in her pleading encouragement which meant he perhaps did not manage to draw things out as much as he would like. But when he stilled against her and she pouted a little he now knew what he could do about that and put his fingers to rather better effect coaxing Elizabeth to another shuddering pinnacle.

Afterwards, Elizabeth clung a little and he could not think of anything he would welcome more. She pressed kiss after kiss after him, seeming as content as he had ever seen her. It was when he was close to drifting off she whispered against his neck. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to be proven wrong. James breathed in the scent of her hair – half out of its ribbons and no doubt there would be pins in his bed, but he could not bring himself to move.

“Not wrong,” James said softly. “Misinformed.”

 

The morning seemed to arrive very quickly, and James was bleary-eyed when he woke to find Elizabeth fidgeting as the fire was being noisily lit. Her clear impatience was only encouraging, and it only gave him ideas. He caught her up in a kiss and let his hand glide up her inner thigh relishing in the soft feel of her skin.

It was hard to keep her quiet with just kisses but he managed, and he knew that this was perhaps inadvisable when they were not alone, yet he could not seem to stop himself. He was so focussed on Elizabeth and the feel of her that he did not hear the door click closed but Elizabeth did, and she nipped at his lip causing him to break the kiss in surprise.

“I thought she would never leave,” she said in an exasperated tone, kicking off the sheets. “And you James Norrington – are a wicked tease. I thought I was going to go mad.” James flushed – he had held back a little if only because if she had shouted his name while the maid was in the room that would have been very awkward later. “But I have decided to forgive you for being so cruel,” she said knowingly. “Yesterday I said I wanted you – not your touch.” She paused. “Today I want both. I want to feel – I want to be overwhelmed when you are inside me, James.”

James had had plans for this morning. He had been going to mention she could be on top. He had been unable to stop thinking of that since everything else Theo had advised had proved correct. And selfishly the morning light would have made for a rather fantastic view. But now Elizabeth was asking for something and he was utterly incapable of denying her in general and even less when she was half naked and stretching out in his bed looking at him the way she was now. Everything about her pose screamed anticipation and he could not help but want to fulfil that.

 

James did not need any further encouragement anyway – waking with Elizabeth in his bed gave him a cock stand like iron even before he touched her. And when he leaned over this morning he found himself grinding against her before he pressed into her and she whimpered and wrapped her legs around him. “ _Inside_ ,” she said as if that word was all she could manage. It was all he needed, and he pushed into her as he snaked one hand down to rub against her as he thrust.

Once again, he found that there was a new level of pleasure in this as Elizabeth’s grip with legs seemed to tighten as she threw her head back with a cry. Her nails were dug into his arms where she held onto him and she pleaded for more. He might have been ashamed of how rough this made him if not for the effect it had on Elizabeth. She arched and for the briefest moment James felt smug, but he had not known – not realised how it would feel when she came with him inside her. Elizabeth was already so hot and tight and when she clenched around him, James swore out loud muttering oaths into the skin of her neck.

 

Elizabeth recovered before him and by the time he moved off her conscious of his weight, he could see the smile playing about her lips.

She leaned close to kiss him and teased him by running one hand over his beard.  He knew fine well he could shave it now – he no longer looked so gaunt but Elizabeth liked it, so he had not even considered shaving though it meant he occasionally reddened her soft skin when kissing her. “You really are committing to this rogue bit,” she said. “Such language James.”

James supposed he deserved that. He would normally apologise for using such language in front of a lady, but he was sure that would only amuse Elizabeth further. “It seems to have served me well,” he said. “I feel like a rogue when I have so little sense of restraint around you.”

“I like it,” Elizabeth told him frankly. “Certainly, much more than the sense of restraint.” She stretched out on his bed, the shirt she had slept in was in complete disarray – open to the waist and falling to one side to expose the curve of one slender breast and the pink of her nipple. The hem barely fell to her hips though that was at least partly down to him pushing it up in his impatience and he felt himself stir. Her golden curls already dishevelled by the sleep and the night before had fallen entirely and he reached to pick out the loose hairpins before they should jab her. She smiled at him. “I wish I could stay here all day,” she stretched, and James was wondering if they could get away with that when she carried on sounding a little wistful. “I wish I could stay here forever.” That stopped his thoughts at once entirely caught up in her words. She had never said anything like that but before he could respond she had slipped out of bed, the shirt tails falling down to cover her.

 

“But I must get home,” she said. “There will be enough talk today without my being seen wandering the streets.”

“Talk?” James said confused.

“I may have been prevaricating a little last night,” Elizabeth admitted. “There was a minor incident at the ball.”

“Ah,” James said putting aside the flare of hope, glad he had not said anything foolish. Elizabeth wanting to hide here from society was not the same as actually wanting to be here. “How minor?”

 

“Miss Prescott is engaged,” Elizabeth said which was rather dodging the question he thought. “My congratulations to her father were perhaps less than sincere.” James did not understand – Miss Prescott was a fixture of Port Royal. But she was not Elizabeth’s friend. Not that Elizabeth had friends in society but when she had Miss Prescott had not been one. Quite the opposite. She had debuted the same year as Elizabeth and there had been a fierce one-sided rivalry where Miss Prescott had been, in his opinion, outshone at every turn by Elizabeth without Elizabeth’s ever really trying.

“Poor dear,” Elizabeth said. “Finally engaged and she looked so miserable.  – she had nearly caught Mr Maitland all on her own and then he went and died of yellow jack. Now her father has given up on her getting herself off the shelf and parcelled her off like a heifer to Mr Harlow.”

“That is a rather harsh way to put it,” James said, he did not remember Mr Maitland. And while the name Harlow was familiar, the gentleman James pictured he had not seemed like he was looking for a wife.

 

“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “I think he thought so too. I could have been more circumspect. I think it was the shock of actually feeling sorry for her. She’s so unpleasant but she deserved a few months to mourn. Or for her father to found someone who at least had a hope of returning her interest.” Elizabeth was half dressed now, and she turned to him and queried “If they hang Harlow for an invert does she still get her marriage portion.”

“His whole estate unless he’s willed it elsewhere,” James said without thinking. “Elizabeth you cannot go around suggesting such things – they would hang him for it.”

“Ha,” she said. “As if anyone would listen to a word _I_ say. Women have no standing in law James, even when in favour of the matrons. Besides he got drunk and cavorted down Main street in a dress – he clearly has deep pockets to not already be arrested.”

James said nothing to that. Elizabeth came back to his side. “I will go home and spend the morning on something ladylike and the afternoon at the hospital and tonight I will be back.” He pulled her close for a kiss. “Don’t go finding that restraint,” she advised. “At the rate, you are going I shall be expecting another pleasant surprise.”

 

James watched her go, with that promise he could not be too caught up in his own foolish misreading of her words. And he would not say anything about the talk – it might not be so bad. A ball would generate all sorts of gossip and perhaps more talk might be about the engaged couple.

 

James was disabused of this notion as soon as he arrived at the Fort. Theo Groves was directing the men to patrol quietly and if it was small minded to be amused by his hangover, James thought it a minor sin. “Do you need the surgeon?” he offered as Theo glared at him when he ordered a gun practice.

“No,” he said. “How much brandy did we drink? I am never letting you pour again,” this was a blatant lie because Theo would let anyone pour if they were paying.

 

Theo was not quite done, of course. “You really should have come to the ball,” he advised. “If you had been there perhaps there would have been enough attention on Miss Swann she would not have accused Mr Prescott of pimping his only child.”

“She did not say that,” James said and then damned himself for a fool. “She would not,” he amended. “I can’t believe she spoke to the Prescotts at all – I have seen Miss Prescott cross the street to cut her. Were you there or is this just the latest gossip.”

“I may have been elsewhere,” Theo admitted in a shifty tone that meant James assumed elsewhere was some private corner of the Williams' grounds. “But that is what is being said, James. Every matchmaking mother is up in arms that Miss Swann has implied they are procuress’ and that their daughters are for sale.” Theo paused. “Though they do call it the marriage market do they not. Still you know what they are like – they will be round to complain to the Governor the instant he returns.”

 

They would, James knew. Elizabeth was unpopular as it was. They would seize the chance to complain. He did not think mornings of ladylike behaviour would have much impact when her father heard of this.

“Cheer up,” Theo said. “If he decides he needs a husband for her, you will be his first choice still.”

“Being the Governor’s choice was never the issue,” James said in the end – he was sick of denying things. “But I have never been Elizabeth’s and I won’t marry her unwilling.” None of that was a lie. Elizabeth might want certain things from him but not his name or his protection.

“Like that is it,” Theo said conjuring sympathy now he had coaxed a partial admittance out of him. “Well, you never know. Some other scandal might blow up in the next few days – undo some of the outrages, calm some nerves.”

“Forgive me if I would like something more certain than _might_ ,” James said. He should have gone to the ball. He could have done something.

“Well,” Theo said thoughtfully. “I am sure I could summon up some scandalous gossip all on my own. If you really wanted.”

 

“You are going to end up with a wife at this rate,” James said – unable to think of any scandal Theo could conjure that would not either ruin a young lady or lead him to the altar.

“Not a scandal about me,” Theo said impatiently as if this was entirely obvious. “I’ve told you. No-one cares about me now I’m not ranking officer. But I’d be considered an impeccable source of gossip about you.”

James paused. “What would you say?” he said finally.

Theo’s eyes widened as he realised James might actually agree to this and then he grinned. Of course, he was going to be self-satisfied about it. “I think it’s really much more effective if you don’t know,” he advised. “After all, for it to be properly scandalous you will have to deny it utterly.”

James took a deep breath and nodded. “Very well. But nothing involving Elizabeth - that would only make the endeavour pointless.” And then he left unable to stand the disturbing combination of disbelief and utter glee on the Captain’s face.

But it hardly mattered, he reminded himself. No matter how much gossip there was about him he would still be quite welcome in society. He could only imagine what Elizabeth would like to say about that.


	11. Culmination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An idyll comes to an end.

For the next week, James found himself tensing every time he heard the repeated gossip about Elizabeth. It did not seem to be dying down at all. She proclaimed herself unbothered by it when in his chambers each night.

“I meant every word I said,” she declared firmly. “So, let them repeat it.” And then she would lead him to the bed and he was himself rather easily distracted in such circumstances.

Her father had been delayed in Morant Bay which was a relief on several counts given his return would put an end to their idyll. James had not managed to surprise Elizabeth any further – not from lack of ideas but ever since he had managed satisfactory Elizabeth had seemed quite keen to direct matters herself. James was utterly unable to resist her for so much as a moment.

 

Tonight, he had been surprised to find her still in a silk gown from some event she had attended. It became her – as everything did. Even the breeches if James was honest with himself. She was full of fire – pacing his bedchamber, her skirts swirling around her and consternation written across her face – she did not even notice him at first and when she did her face softened as she crossed the room to press kisses on him. “Elizabeth,” he said. “Is something amiss?”

“No,” Elizabeth said firmly. “Do not start fretting, James.”  But something was clearly wrong.

“Is there more talk?” he guessed.

“How should I know,” she said. “And I would not care if there were James. It is nothing like that. And nothing you need to worry over.” James felt thoroughly rebuked by that mild as it was. He had no call to pry of course. The arrangement they had did not allow him to interfere in her life and she had made it clear she did not want him to defend her.

It startled him then when Elizabeth suddenly sighed and leaned in to whisper, “I’m sorry.” His surprise must have shown as she shrugged and added. “I did not mean to bring my mood with me.”

James felt just as dissatisfied with that statement. He did not want her to have to pretend with him. “You do know if there was anything I could do,” he began.

Elizabeth steered his hands to her waist and prevented him from going on with her lips on his. This cut off his ability to voice his thought. And the majority of his ability to think.

 

“Distract me,” she said and pulled him towards the bed.

So he did. It was difficult as ever to manage her fancy clothing and Elizabeth batted his hands away in the end perched herself on the edge of his bed, lifting her skirts and finding no such difficulty in unfastening his breeches. “No time for that,” she said and while James felt he should protest the notion of treating her so entirely like a light skirt he could not help but want to make the most of whatever time that night she could spare him. And what little control he had vanished when she had her hands on his cock demonstrating just what she had learned from their time together. But Elizabeth did not seem to mind his improper treatment of her as he slid one hand up the smooth skin of her bare thigh and captured her mouth with his.

In fact, she seemed rather in favour - she was slick and hot under his touch and he relished the sounds she made into his mouth and he let her have her way as she guided him inside her and clung to him, her silk skirts bunched around her thighs and she wrapped her legs around him as he thrust against her, breathing encouragement in his ear. As if he needed encouraging! She would not let him push her back on the bed, clinging to him as he thrust into her. Her pleasure triggered his and she pulled him in for another kiss, her eyes dark with desire and a smug smile playing about her lips when she released him then pushed him away. She rearranged her skirts and got up to exam herself in his shaving mirror.

 

“Hmm,” Elizabeth said addressing her reflection rather critically. “Well I don’t look entirely unscathed, but I suppose I could manage a swoon to explain any rumpling.”

James was baffled by this announcement, settling himself into the spot on the bed she’d vacated and attempting to restore some order himself. He had assumed she had some reason to rush off tonight – that whatever it was had been the reason for her hurry. Not whatever this was.

“Of course, you look much more rumpled,” she said delightedly. “I do mean to try and leave your wig be, but I can’t. It’s so awful and it looks wrong with your beard.” James had given over offering to shave as Elizabeth had made her approval of the beard clear. That and doing away with his wig and anything else that made him appear less formal. “But, of course,” she carried on blithely. “ _Your_ reputation would survive a tumble at a party.”

James blinked at her and Elizabeth looked further pleased to have perturbed him. “My father won’t be away forever,” she reminded him.

James knew now she had made her purpose clear that he should deny any such thing would ever happen – especially with Elizabeth delighting in teasing him so and he could tell she expected him to be scandalised. But he did not deny it. It was bad enough he had no restraint – lying about it would hardly help matters.

 

Elizabeth was undressing now she had revealed she had no reason to actually rush off – she’d merely been experimenting. James could not help but feel a coward then for not telling her that he wanted more than this irregular arrangement or the chance of a fumbled encounter at a party. But he reminded himself, it was not as if she did not _know._ He ought to be grateful she had given him more than the _once_ she had offered.

When she came back towards him in only her shift, James pulled her close – relishing the feel of her warm form in his arms. It was only another reminder to make the most of what they had now. Elizabeth leaned in and nuzzled against the beard as she began to pull at his clothing. Even if he could not resist a rushed encounter with her in future – it would never be enough.

 

She had surprised him further.  Once she was done undressing him to her satisfaction and dishevelling him even more and they had ended up entangled together on his bed. She had pressed a kiss to his pulse point. “You always give me my own way,” she said, her voice a silken purr that only made him harder despite the fact he had just had her. “Isn’t there anything you want?”

For a single moment, James was tempted to be honest. To plead his case. To make all sorts of promises. He would not expect a society wife and he would be perfectly content for her to continue her work with the hospital. That he would never even ask as much as her father did in terms of ladylike behaviour.

But before he could say anything – she made her meaning plainer before James made an utter fool of himself. “You were so set on my pleasure,” she said. “I should hate to think I’ve neglected yours.”

 

James held his breath a moment – he had not ever envisaged it would be possible to be disappointed and blindsided with lust all at once. And he could not even think of anything to ask of her, but the notion still made him shift beneath her wanting her all the more. The idea of Elizabeth offering him requests making him feel slightly giddy and guilty all at once. “You have more than seen to my pleasure,” he tried to assure her. “I don’t need anything more.”

Of course, this didn’t seem to suit Elizabeth who had pouted at this refusal and looked most put out. It seemed utterly ridiculous that he could have her in his arms half naked and sulking because he would not demand more of her. But then he recalled her teasing him about scandalous requests back when they had first discussed this – as if their whole arrangement was not shocking enough. He pressed a kiss to her mouth smoothing away the pout there as his hand slid down her back relishing the heat of her skin through the thin cotton. “There was one thing,” he ventured. “A variation. As it were.”

 

This cheered her as he settled her in his lap and made the most of having her in reach, one hand settling on her hip as he tugged at the fastening of her last remaining garment, so he could plant kisses down the slope of her breast. By the time his mouth had found her nipple, she was already squirming most distractedly against him. James was sure she was well aware of what she was doing. She had never ceased to be impatient and James could not help but enjoy her demands. But her attempts to tease him made the surprised pleasure on her face when he showed how they could fit together this way almost as gratifying as the feel of her sliding onto him. _Almost._

But when he tried to show her how to move she pushed his hands away. “I might acquire a taste for variation,” Elizabeth said. She was watching him wide-eyed and then she shifted herself and shivered in a way James knew meant she was especially pleased. “But I’m not sure this is something for you,” Elizabeth said rocking back and forth clearly relishing having control.

“I assure you it is,” James managed to tell her earnestly – though even stringing a sentence together was challenging. “And of course, I have a rather marvellous view.”

 

Elizabeth laughed and shifted forward, so her shift was even looser and ground herself onto him until he groaned appreciatively. “You are welcome to do more than look,” she assured him.  James took the invite letting his hands run over the softness of her skin as she rode him ever more steadily and when she made a small pleading noise and began to move faster her let his touch fall to where their bodies were joined. It did not matter that she stalled atop him when her crisis took her – her pleasure wrung out the last of his self-control and he arched up to hold her tightly and burying his face in the crook of her neck where he held her against him and gasped her name into her skin.

Her skin was slick with sweat under her shift and he pressed a kiss to her pulse, tasting the salt of her skin. But Elizabeth only pushed him back into the pillows with a scold. “I cannot believe you did not tell me about that earlier,” she said though he thought the temper mostly feigned – she looked too pleased with herself to be truly angry. “Most unfair of you James.”

“My apologies,” James said unable to hide his own smile. “You must let me know how I can make it up to you.”

James slept lightly that night though he had good reason to be tired – he was finding himself reluctant to sleep when he had Elizabeth curled in his arms sleeping soundly her head pillowed on his chest – her hair escaping its fancy style to fall in his face more likely than not. And though he’d been convinced she was asleep when he had been drifting into sleep she had sighed softly and whispered. “I will miss you, James.” She shifted and yawned and didn’t stir any further which left him wondering just what she meant – he wasn’t going anywhere.

He did not get to ask her in the morning because he woke to find her gone – the room quiet and her things – which had been rather wildly scattered missing as well. But he assumed she would be back that night and perhaps if he was indulging her new liking for variation he would be able to acquire an answer.

But Elizabeth did not appear that night and the following day it became clear why when James received a note from Governor Swann inviting him to call.

 

* * *

 

James spent most of his day at the fort, worrying over Elizabeth and what she meant and her father’s reaction to the latest talk and then glowering at Theo Groves whenever he saw his subordinate. The man was an inveterate gossip and always had been and yet when given permission he seemed to have done nothing at all useful.

“It is no good you glaring at me,” Theo said unperturbed. “I assure you I have done my part.

“I haven’t heard a thing,” James said dourly – well except about Elizabeth. He heard plenty of talk about her.

“Yes,” Theo said. “It is almost as if given your position people are reluctant to gossip about you to your face.” James paused at that. It was a fair point. “Besides,” Theo said. “You are never in society. If you attended anything you’d soon see you’re not as popular as you once were.” He paused and looked triumphant. “Lady Bellamy is particularly furious, so I’d expect her to call on you any day now to reprimand you for your behaviour.”

James did not give Theo the satisfaction of asking what he had said. He knew better than to think he would get a reasonable answer.

 

In the end, it was Governor Swann who gave him some clue – when he called at King’s House. “Ah Admiral Norrington,” the Governor said. “I do not know what to offer more – my hearty congratulations or my thanks for your good timing. You are the talk of Port Royal which I have heard may have spared my daughter from being so.”

“I am?” James said feeling like a fraud for playing the fool even if he was entirely ignorant of why he was being congratulated. It was too much to suppose that Governor Swann wouldn’t hear any of the talk about Elizabeth. But it had been downplayed and that had been the point of course and he finally found out just what Theo Groves was saying about him.

“A knighthood!” Governor Swann said. “Very well deserved of course though we will be sorry to lose you for the journey to England – you’ve barely had a chance to settle.”

Once that had sunk in, James had to admit to himself that Theo Groves had outdone himself this time.

“Governor Swann – as flattering as such talk is. I assure you it is rumour only. I have been offered no such honour.” But his attempts to persuade Governor Swann that he was not to be knighted only had the Governor outraged on his behalf and threatening to use his influence at court to have the rumour made true.

James had excused himself when his attempts to dissuade the Governor were ignored. He was relieved to have some notion of what Theo had said. But he did not know why a knighthood or the rumour of one would have earned him Lady Bellamy’s ire. Unless she wanted her husband to be the only one so honoured?

 

But Lady Bellamy was not the only angry one. When James walked through town he was cut by not one but two mothers who previously had been happy to push their daughters at him. It only made him more curious what Theo had come up with – nothing he had done in person had put them off. Even his refusal of invitations had been excused. His barely civil attitude even when he did attend society. He almost wished the self-appointed arbiter of respectability would call and scold him – at least then he might know how he had offended.

In the end, it was Elizabeth who gave the game away. “Why is Theo Groves making up stories about you?” she had asked at a garden party where they were for once both being thoroughly ignored.  Before she spoke, her approach had made James wonder if she had meant to proposition him as she had threatened. He had to push down a pang of disappointment that when she did not. It was the middle of the afternoon, he reminded himself and then was appalled that was the main objection that had occurred to him.

 

“I am sure the Captain only likes to gossip as much as the next man,” James said. Elizabeth gave him a very firm look.

“He does like the sound of his own voice,” she allowed. “But one minute he has you being knighted and every debutante in Port Royal is practising signing her name Lady Norrington. Then the next he has put it about that you are intending to seek a bride in London. That the girls of Port Royal are not _refined_ enough for your taste.”

James nearly laughed at the thought. “I expect he is making a great defence of their honour himself?” he said. Theo would be a catch indeed with such behaviour.

“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “He’s quite the hero of the hour for it. And I would believe him about the knighthood if the stuff about marriage was not such nonsense.” James did not argue. She knew his heart too well now and he could not even manage a smile when she teased. “I don’t think your taste is for refined ladies at all.”

“I would not say that,” he denied – he would never describe her so and she only looked amused that he would not even _hint_ that she was unrefined.

 

“Are you well Elizabeth?” he said – resorting to banality to get off this track and he was surprised by her answer.

“Very well,” she said seriously. “The course of my life is uninterrupted James.” And then he realised why she thought he was asking. That he was enquiring because of the condition he had set. But he had not been – she had promised wed him if there was any sign of a child and he had assumed that meant he would be informed. He had trusted her word. “It is one of the benefits of spinsterhood – it’s not all glamour and knighthood like it is for bachelors.”

James was quiet – he had not anticipated this conversation and his silence was clearly taken badly.

“Are you disappointed?” she asked watching him carefully and he rather felt they should be careful – her regard would only attract attention. If he was not currently so unpopular they would have already been interrupted.

James was glad at least he could honestly say deny any disappointment. “No,” he assured. “It would hardly seem an auspicious start to a marriage,” he added. “Being conditional And I doubt it would have been a welcome outcome in your eyes.” And more than anything – now that James knew what it was to have Elizabeth in his arms when she wanted to be there – James knew he would never be able to settle for any dutiful substitute that seemed the inevitable consequence of trapping her in such a manner.  Elizabeth excused herself with a nod and James did not let himself watch her walk away. Enough was enough, he told himself and left the garden party without even making his own excuses.   

But alone, deep in a bottle of brandy he could not help but puzzle over it still. Elizabeth had not believed he was going to London. That he meant to find a wife there. But she had still said she would _miss_ him. What had she meant?


	12. Indiscreet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James’ disappointment over the lack of trysts in his life is of a short duration.

Despite James rather shameful hopes, Elizabeth did not approach him at a party to proposition him before the next time he sailed. She did not approach him at all. In fact, he did not see her at any event at all in his remaining time on land. He did not know why. If she managed to offend anyone else with her bold opinions he had not heard of it and he knew enquiring over gossip about her would only cause some if there were none. He saw her very occasionally on hospital business in town and if he could not approach her, he could at least be amused by her rather savage negotiations in the name of charity.

James reminded himself repeatedly that Elizabeth had offered him _once_ and given him so much more than that and no matter what she had implied, that he had no right to expect more from her. It did not help. He thought of her constantly and not even being at sea seemed to shift her from his thoughts.  

As soon as he was on land again, he found himself attending every event in society he was invited to in hopes of at least catching a glimpse of her. He felt a great fool for having ended up here again but despite feeling foolish, he could not say he would have given up one moment of the time he had had with her no matter how far back it set him.

 

Society now seemed a much better bet if all he wanted was to see Elizabeth. For a full month after his return from sea, he saw her all the time. She ignored him for the most part. She was not impolite, merely as disinterested in him as she was the rest of society. He learned at the second party he attended, to his everlasting horror, that she joined in Theo Groves attempt to spread gossip about him. James had heard her – one more than one occasion confirming that her father was quite sure James was indeed due a title. And if that were not enough she had gone one better and to his great irritation had expanded on the gossip. Elizabeth was now claiming his apparent opinion that the girls of Port Royal girls were unrefined was entirely her fault and being very apologetic about it.

A week after the first time he had heard her declare her regret for this fact – an apology he was sure no-one had taken seriously, he had wondered what she was playing at. She had looked directly at him and winked and then gone on to give a most insincere speech that involved much sighing over the fact that no-one in Port Royal would get to be ‘Lady Norrington.’

It was almost enough to have him consider avoiding society again. But he ended up being glad he did not when Elizabeth surprised him by asking him to take the air at Lady Bellamy’s spring ball. “You can glower at me up close instead of from across the room,” she said waving her fan at him in a clear scold – it was a sticky night and the thought of air was appealing even if her company would only be a torment when she had apparently lost even _carnal interest_ in him and he could not do anything but think on her with a longing that had not abated one bit.

“I do not mean to glower,” he said quietly and offered her his arm. His attachment to her was his problem. Not hers. “I only wish you would stop encouraging such talk,” he said – his words only felt clumsy as she took the arm and even having her close made him ache to kiss her. “I hate to see you blamed for Theo’s nonsense.”

Elizabeth only gave him her best coy look and bright smile at this, which was, of course, was worrying. She was clearly up to something when she made such effort to look innocent.

“I am only doing it for my own benefit,” she assured him. “People do like to talk of me. And my jilting you is gossip of a vintage that my father cannot hold against me.” Elizabeth patted his arm and then batted her eyes at him, doing a reasonable impression of a debutant. Except James found it ridiculous in the blushing debutants and fascinating on Elizabeth.

 

They walked in silence for a little while – James thought of a thousand things to say and discarded all of them as seeming rather desperate. He could not tell her anything she didn’t already know, and he no longer had anything to offer that she wanted it seemed. But they had wandered off the beaten path a little when she gave him a sidelong glance and added. “It has all worked out, you know, I have promised Lady Bellamy I will try to convince you of the suitability of the girls of Port Royal and now I am quite the flavour of the month.” And then she leaned up in his arms and kissed him which distracted him for a long moment caught up in the feel of her in his arms and the taste of her mouth. But even the feel of her close to him only stunned him for a moment – but when he realised what she said he pulled away. He _had_ to say something to fend off this latest plot. He did not want her to throw other girls at him _again._

His dismay must have been obvious as he had not even managed to voice a protest when Elizabeth assured him. “I was _lying_ ,” she said her voice light with amusement. “I just like the idea of Lady Bellamy defending my talking to you instead of gossiping like the rest of them.”

James exhaled heavily and found himself smiling quite against his will. Why must everything be a plot? Why did her insistence on having everything be a scheme only make him adore her more? He held her close and relieved and amused and bamboozled by her as ever. Elizabeth laughed at his relief and pressed a kiss to his neck. “Honestly,” she said. “What part of my dragging you off to the most secluded, private part of the Bellamy gardens had you thinking I would try and marry you off again.”

“It is not my fault I cannot keep up with your shenanigans,” James told her. “I do not think anyone could. And I am not sure this qualifies as remotely private.” They could still hear the sounds of the party clearly in the night air – but then Elizabeth’s hands were at his belt and then she was unfastening his breeches with her nimble fingers.

“I’m willing to chance it,” she said and once she had her hands on him James found himself rather easily convinced. He had missed her fiercely and had not quite managed to resign himself to the feeling even if it was almost an old companion.  

 

He had been hard from the instant she had kissed him and on edge the instant she touched him. He bore her down to the grass and if there was a brief moment of guilt about the location – it fled the instance she began to hike up her skirts one-handed while never letting go of his cock.

“Elizabeth!” he tried to scold but she laughed uninterested in his telling off and only more intent on driving him mad stroking him firmly and he reached for her to return the favour - her skirts were hiked around her waist leaving her entirely exposed to the night hair and she was slick with want when he reached between her legs to please her. She whimpered in the most gratifying way as he touched her.

“I have lain awake at night thinking of you for months now,” she told him pulling him close and shivering with pleasure. “Of this. I wanted to ambush you the instant you returned from sea.” James managed not to ask why she hadn’t – but only just instead focussing on making her shiver again. “Why does that feel so much better when you do it,” she said arching against his touch and changing her touch in a way that had her twisting her hand around him. It had James seeing stars and wondering how he would last long enough to get in her. “I don’t understand that at all. I know why I like this,” she stroked his cock again and gave him a pointed look. “But why are your fingers better than mine?”

James belatedly took her meaning and with that mental image in mind he kissed her both to quiet her – they were not truly alone no matter what she said and partly because he did not know how much more of her vivid imagery he could take.  And she let go of him then pulling him atop her and James pressed himself on her, _in her_ and groaned into her mouth at the feel of her. He did not stop touching her – he wanted to feel her pleasure. He _wanted_ her to want his touch more than her own and when he felt her peak beneath him, she clawed at his back and then pulled at his hair and bit his lip as punishment for trying to keep her quiet. Having her frenzied and frantic beneath him was perhaps the most wonderful experience he had ever had and it was enough to undo him entirely. He stilled against her feeling wrung out and feeling unable to care about where they were or how improper this was.

James had barely got his breath back when Elizabeth pushed him off her with a satisfied smile that filled James with more pride than anything else he had ever achieved at sea. “So much for our practice run,” she said. “I don’t think I can manage a swoon that will explain this.” James did not even understand at first and then he looked at her properly and took in her rumpled skirts, her hair falling out if it’s carefully pinned updo. Even if those were explainable – the humid air had left the grass damp and there were very vivid grass stains on the back of her dress. Then she laughed at his silent horror. “I will sneak home,” she said. “No-one cares where I am. No doubt they’ll be glad I’m not there to offend you further.” And then she kissed him again and it was quite some time before she did any sneaking anywhere.

 

 

* * *

 

A week after that he chanced to call on her at her office, at the hospital. They solved the issue of privacy by jamming a chair under the door in lieu of a lock and despite her words about the lack of comfort in the bed, James had no complaints. And it was him who would have been in a position to notice as Elizabeth had scolded him over grass stains all over again and then pushed him down the bed and rode him to completion. But then perhaps the bed was uncomfortable - James was reasonably certain he would have let her have him on a bed of nails and would not notice so much as a scratch.

 

At some events, Elizabeth seemed to somehow know if there would be a spare guest room they could locate instead of finding a private spot in the garden. James liked this best – it was a close as he could come to managing to treat her with some decency in their snatched moments. Most of the bedrooms locked for one and he didn’t feel as if he was taking as much of a chance with her reputation. But he never managed to refuse her when the garden was all that was available. He had a sneaking suspicion she preferred their chancier encounters and that the bedrooms were a sacrifice to practicality only.

 

There had been one occasion – James had been three sheets to the wind – Elizabeth had arrived late, and he’d been sure she was not attending. Then when she did arrive she kept her distance at first only coming close to make pointed intimate remarks that he was sure someone would overhear and ruin both of them.  When they had finally slipped out of the ballroom they’d stumbled into an office instead of a guest room.   

The instant they were alone she had drawn him close for a kiss – she was tipsy herself James realised, and it only made her bolder.

“James, come here,” she said in a tone so sweet he knew by now meant she was going to be even more wicked than usual. If James had not been so drunk he was sure he would have well, not ignored her when she bent over the desk and lifted her own skirts displaying herself quite thoroughly. But surely, he would not gone along with it. “You are not the only one who can come up with variation,” she said and then she wriggled her bare backside and James’ self-control, severely diminished as it was, was utterly lost.

 

Elizabeth made a small soft noise, unlike anything he’d heard from her when he pressed into her from this angle. James stilled at once convinced her had gone too far only for her to press back against him, with a low moan that seemed to vibrate through his every nerve ending.

“Don’t stop,” she insisted before he could even _ask_ if she was alright and when he moved again – ever so cautiously, she gasped again, and he saw her clutch at the edge of the desk and shiver and clenched around him. It was easy to touch her like this, to slip his hand between the desk and _her_ and relish in the way this made her shiver. It did not seem quite real to him, even as it sank in - that had not been a bad response – not a protest at all.  


When he began to move for real her hands scrabbled for purchase on the desk and her voice was frantic. “James _please_ ,” she said. He leaned in and thrust closing his eyes against the image. “Please please _please_ ,” he had never heard her like this and he did not stop or still and she kept _on_ pleading.

He did not even know what more she wanted, he was in her, his fingers pressed against where she was most sensitive. She did not want him to stop – he saw that much and, in the end, he had to ask. “Please what?” he said his voice gruff with holding back.

 “Harder,” she told him in a voice that was all at once pleading and an edict. “I want, I _need_ more.”

James bucked his hips against her hard and it clearly was what she wanted within minutes as she wailed his name and James managed only a little longer before he murmured her name into her hair bent over her seemed almost limp beneath him as he emptied himself into her.

She was still for a long moment after and when James began to worry – had he hurt her she shivered a little and got to her feet and then sat back on the desk and pulled him close kissing him with all the fervour she had demanded of him a moment ago.

“Did you like my variation?” she asked. She was practically blushing – which James found adorable yet rather bizarre.

“Did you like it?” he asked. He rather wondered where she had come to the notion.

“Yes,” Elizabeth said and answered the question he hadn’t asked. “I may have almost caught some of the staff in an indelicate position and I have been wondering ever since.” She was peering up at him under her eyelashes. “I thought it might shock you.”

James grinned and kissed her. “I think you like shocking me,” he said. “You must think me quite the innocent.”

“No,” she protested and then smiled a little smugly. “Not anymore. It did seem more improper than usual.” She bit her lip and James watched her. “I keep wondering when I will hit your limit,” she said. “When you’ll have had enough.”

“Never,” James said drunk on brandy and her and the moment. He had no limit with her and surely, she _knew_. He had not hidden it at all. Had ceased even trying. “I would not refuse you anything,” he said. And Elizabeth looked as pleased as he had ever seen her.

 

* * *

 

Perhaps this led to foolhardiness on his part, he had promised not to refuse her and he never did and she was demanding whenever she could be. Inevitably this led to a close call at a ball when they slipped out of a guest room they’d commandeered.

James had still felt half drunk on the feel of having Elizabeth in his arms for the best part of the night and nearly as intoxicated on the spiked punch. It had made him sloppy and meant he’d been even more inclined to give Elizabeth her way – they had been away from the party far too long and no doubt his absence at least would have caused gossip.

They’d run straight into Captain Groves in the hall of the Prescott house. James had sobered instantly. Elizabeth had only curtsied and seemed as usual utterly unperturbed.

“Honestly,” Theo had scolded without a hint of shock. “You can’t go back together – it’s like you are _asking_ for there to be talk.” Then he vanished into a different room – for his own rendezvous James presumed.

Elizabeth had laughed and kissed James’ cheek and went on ahead. By the time James slunk back into the ballroom feeling slightly ill with worry, she was deep in conversation with Lady Bellamy as if she had not vanished from the ballroom for most of the night. And James was at once surrounded by match making mama’s all keen to assure him of the refinement of their daughters, which was not at all a distraction from the disaster of the least discreet man in Port Royal knowing of his and Elizabeth’s indiscretions.


	13. Realisation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theo helps James come to a realisation while Elizabeth continues to keep him on his toes.

It was not that James thought Theo Groves would deliberately ruin Elizabeth’s name with talk. He was just so indiscreet. It was difficult to think of any motivation that could induce silence from Theo Groves on _any_ subject. Or a way to phrase that to the Captain that would not seem insulting. Still, he planned to call on the Captain the very next day – he had to at least try.

Elizabeth was not even worried over it – he had spoken to her briefly that night after they had been caught. “But Captain Groves is your friend,” she had said. “Why would he want to spoil things. Don’t fuss so, James.” Then she had pointedly steered him the direction of a Miss Temple who she assured him was a very refined young lady. She was also just shy of seventeen and too timid to speak to him during the dance Elizabeth had all but forced him to offer her.

 

The very next day James attempted to deal with the matter immediately. He found Captain Groves in his office downing coffee as if there was a danger of a shortage. James even took a cup as he considered his next words carefully. The drink was over strong and probably had more sugar in than coffee - the consistency put him in mind of tar but he did not get the chance to speak before Theo finished his own cup and gave him a very stern look over the cup.

He looked extremely put out as he said. “I blame you for this hangover,” he said. “I drank half the punch trying to recover from the shock – dear lord James. I would never have believed it in a million years if I had not seen it with my own eyes.”

James thought that was rather rich coming from Theo who had bedded what seemed like half of the women of their acquaintance – at least of those open to dalliances. And he would have said so except James had fretted over this for most of the night and in doing so had recalled that Theo was, of course, careful to keep his attention to widows and bored wives. He had never, to James’ knowledge anyway, _ruined_ anyone. If he convinced debutantes to take the air with him – that was as much as he took. And by dwelling on this James missed his window to respond besides because Theo was rather on a roll.

“After all these years,” Theo said breaking James train of thought. “To behave in such a manner, James. It beggars belief. And you had the nerve to come to me for advice while you were lying to my face.”

James found himself utterly dumbstruck by Theo’s words. Was Theo really scolding him because he had not told him of the affair? Rather than the much more obvious crime of seducing an unmarried girl! Not that James could in his heart of hearts claim to have done so. The seduction had been all the Elizabeth’s doing but he would be damned if he would admit that to Theo Groves.

“I think you can see that circumstances require more than the usual discretion in such matters,” James said. Elizabeth was unwed and her father one of James’ oldest acquaintances. Which of course only made James behaviour in carrying on with Elizabeth worse but nonetheless there they were.

 

“Of course,” Theo said as if James had not even spoken. “I do blame myself. I should have realised. I mean it was obvious now that I look back.”

James glared. He did not regret asking Theo's advice - not when it had been so effective. But he could regret the lack of alternatives.

“Half the officers in Jamaica have been regaled with your exploits,” James said. “I am sure you don't accuse them of planning seductions.” 

“No,” Theo said laughter plain in his voice. “Though, of course, they are planning them. They just aren't as successful as I am. Or as you are _apparently_. But that is not what I meant. I hardly gave that a second thought - it was what you said after. That she'd hardly agree to be your mistress. I should have known something was up that you would even _say_ such a thing. Three years past you would have demanded satisfaction if anyone had so much as hinted at such an implication or impugned Miss Swann’s honour.”

James could hardly deny that. He had fought two duels on behalf of Elizabeth's good name - both _after_ the termination of their engagement. Both with men who had thought to congratulate him on discarding ‘pirate’s leavings’ and Theo was well aware because he had been James’ second at both. He had complained excessively about the early hour duels were held at and that being James second was boring because James never so much as took a scrape leaving little for his second to accomplish beyond turning up.

 

“Elizabeth has made it clear,” he said quietly, “that she will not entertain marriage. She has no interest in anything more than what we currently have.” It was bitter to say the words out loud for all that he was painfully aware of the fact.

“But that's good,” Theo said pouring more of the molasses-like coffee and then looking at James as if he was the one misunderstanding the situation when James glared at the notion. Theo rather hastily elaborated. “Before Elizabeth rejected _you,”_ he said. “Now she is just rejecting propriety. That's a step forward isn't it?”

James sat back at that. He had not thought of it that way. What man would? It was the most circuitous logic and he should have dismissed it as nonsense at once. But James found to his own shame he could, in fact, see something to be pleased by in that argument. He could never be entirely appeased by it, but Theo wasn’t wrong. Elizabeth did _want_ him – she had wanted more than once, even after he had managed to not disappoint her. She had said she would miss him and had been more than frank about him being in her thoughts when he was away. It was not what he wanted but it was more than he ever thought he would have. Perhaps it would have to be enough. “More of a step sideways,” he allowed. “But there is no future in it while she thinks as she does.”

“And even if gossip would hurry her to the altar, no doubt you’d never favour such an approach,” Theo said thoughtfully.

“Of course not!” James said – he had come here to ask Theo to keep quiet – not to give him ideas about spreading further gossip on his behalf. Which Elizabeth would consider a ploy no doubt given her confidence in Theo and her knowledge of their friendship.

 

“Ah well,” Theo said. “I would have offered to start such if I thought it would help but to be honest, I think after my last titbit I am not considered such an authority anymore. And even those in society who think the worst of Elizabeth would disdain to spread such gossip – not if they thought it would lead to you being off the marriage market – not even the ladies would gladly say she was ruined by any other man. After all, they don’t know she wouldn’t take the offer you would surely make if such talk got out.”

With that James had to be content. Theo was not discreet, but he may have made a point about the gossips – they would probably consider him making an offer for Elizabeth a worse result than his running off to London to marry. And Theo would not probably spread a rumour that would be _ignored_. He liked to consider himself at the hub of society And he could not forget what Theo had pointed out. Elizabeth did want him. On her terms perhaps but still – she had not lost interest in him as he had assumed she would.

* * *

 

It was shortly after coming to this conclusion that Elizabeth began to sneak into his room again. It was almost as if she had sensed his acceptance of what she offered and not content with that victory she immediately had to challenge him just a little more. This was not every night, of course, as it had been when her father was away. Her visits were intermittent and as much as James worried over this – he did not know what risks she was taking in her travels about town, nor could he really discount the chance of being found out by her father he could to bring himself to refuse her. Not that she really gave him the option often settling herself in his bed while he was out in society just to see his face when he found her.

James could berate himself all he liked for the risks that it involved but there was no denying that having nearly an entire night with her without risking exposure to all of society was a treasure he would cling to. To be able to sleep with her curled in his arms - her unbound hair falling in his face more often than not and waking to find her still there. If he stirred awake just before dawn when she would leave, which once realising it would mean an extra moment with her – he always did. And he thought she did not much mind it either for all she liked the thrill of misbehaving publicly.

It had been after Elizabeth had returned to spending the night in his bed that James inadvertently made another request of her. She had sat in his lap kissing him for what felt like hours, it was marvellous and maddening all at once and when he finally decided she was not for once going to take the lead and went to lift her shift. He had been so keen that the fine material had torn in his hands though he had not meant to be rough. Before he could apologise but she had pressed him down to the bed. “James!,” she had scolded unable to hide her delight. “Explain yourself,” she had said, the demand made laughingly as she pressed kisses to his skin.

 

James could not bear the idea of being predictable or completely without control even if he had been. And he had thought, had _wondered,_ almost continuously about the extra options privacy might bring. “I thought the idea of being skin to skin might appeal,” he had said holding her against him which only allowed her to drive him mad by squirming.

“Oh,” Elizabeth had said wriggling out of his grip. “Oh _yes_. I rather think it might,” she discarded the ruined shift at once taking it in her hands and widening the tear until it was entirely ruined and shrugging it off casually. Then she reached for his clothing and began to tug at his shirt – she was not trying to undress him he realised but trying to return the favour and rip it but it was well-made linen, not the fragile silk she had worn for him and he watched he struggle for a long moment – the image was striking given her state of undress and position until she pulled a face at him and he took the material from her to start the tear for her – she snatched it back the instant it started to rip. “Fair is fair,” she said. As if James would have objected or could come up with any intelligible response with Elizabeth naked in his lap, his entire world narrowed to her lithe form. Unable to see anything but her soft form in his arms, the perfection of every part of her and he reached up to touch her – to pull her against him.

Elizabeth leaned down to kiss him and when she sat up as if to join them, he could not bear to not have her against him and he pulled her close again rolling her so he was on top – stretched out against her with nothing in between them as he pressed inside her and she arched under him told him again and again how much she wanted him. Her voice purring in his ear seemed to shoot straight down his spine and he reached to touch her, to please her before his control was entirely gone.

 

Afterwards, Elizabeth stretched out beside him, still nude, her lips curved in a smile of satisfaction that James enjoyed nearly as much as the view. She was completely unabashed as always and fully aware she had his full attention. “You can ask me, you know,” she said matter of factly. “If there is something you want?”

James who knew full well he could not ask her for what he truly wanted, said nothing for a long moment and pressed a kiss to her hair. “I will bear that in mind,” he assured her.

Within a week though he was at sea without so much as a chance to say goodbye to Elizabeth. But at least he could be reasonably optimistic that after his conversation with Theo Groves he had not ruined her reputation.

 

So it was a shock on his return from sea to find her name on everyone’s lips. Again.

And worse he did not know why. Apparently Port Royal had finally learned to keep quiet about Miss Swann around him – so though while he heard hushed whispers, the actual gossip eluded him. As did Elizabeth, he did not see her at the docks, at the hospital, not on business for the hospital, at King’s House nor at the few social events he attended. It was quite maddening.

He eventually encountered her in town, he had been passing the book shop. It had been shut since the outbreak of yellow fever – the proprietor being one of the many who had not been as fortunate as James to recover.

But it was open now – though it was not what caught his attention, the small brass plaque forbidden the presence of women and canines had been chiselled away, it had left a noticeable mark on the stonework and James’ first thought was how much that would please Elizabeth. Perhaps he could buy her a book without knowing she would resent its purchase. It was not a very romantic gift but one that could pass under her father’s notice.

It did not prepare him to see her behind the counter, dressed plainly – she was even wearing a cap. James stared as he tried to consider just what circumstance might have led to Elizabeth being a shopgirl – let alone in an establishment that had banned her very presence so very recently.

His shock must have been apparent when she looked up from the ledger and noticed him because she laughed and then came to his side to kiss his cheek despite the fact they were in public.

“You look bamboozled,” she said. “Don’t worry James, I haven’t stooped so low as to seek employment. This is more volunteering,” she waved at the ledger. “Mrs Perkins will be back any moment now, she had gone to collect her daughters from some tea party.”

James blinked. “Mr Perkins had yellow fever,” he said carefully feeling very slow.

“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “And the fine business men of Port Royal thought to profit off it by offering his widow a knockdown price for the store.” Elizabeth was the picture of calm but James could hear the anger in her voice.

 

“And you have persuaded her to run it herself?” he asked. Which, of course, would be quite permitted. Widows could own and run businesses.

Elizabeth was quiet for a moment. “It was not my first thought,” she admitted. “I made my own offer.” She closed the ledger with a bang. “A _fair_ one. Not like half the vultures before. But even if I could have managed to get the paperwork arranged and my father didn’t interfere, Mrs Perkins didn’t really want to sell. She wanted a livelihood, so I offered my help instead.”

James still did not think this made much sense – surely the Widow Perkins could employ staff of her own – the bookshop had always done a brisk trade.

“I do the accounts,” Elizabeth said without any real explanation, “and ordering of stock and well most things in the background. I tend to scare away customers when I’m out here. Just as well I didn’t buy it.”

James assumed then that was she had kissed him. Confident in her own presence to give them privacy which was a depressing thought really.

“And are you going to teach Mrs Perkins those things?” he asked. “Or have you abandoned the hospital?” It may have seemed a selfish question given the back of the bookshop did not have a bed but he was more curious. Elizabeth had professed herself wanting to make a difference – he did not see how the bookshop could compare.

“Of course I haven’t abandoned the hospital,” Elizabeth said. “It’s only a lot of my changes there work quite well without me. And I will teach Mrs Perkins all of this - if her other lessons stick. She can’t read James.”

James was taken aback by that. Most merchant families were well to do enough to own business at least had some education – even for their daughters and beside. “But her late husband owned a book shop.” he protested almost unthinkingly.

“Quite,” said Elizabeth in a tone that only reminded James that her opinion of Mr Perkins was undoubtedly poor anyway. “Anyway, she is learning now.”

James nodded and then given the lack of custom Elizabeth had mentioned, tried to buy four books almost at random. Elizabeth laughed at him and put two of the titles back and selected two different tomes.

“Have these,” she said firmly. “I think I know a little about your tastes by now.”

James acquiesced and when he got home there was a note in one of the books Elizabeth had chosen for him. There was no way she could have written it when he was in the shop, she had clearly planned for this encounter and if he was a fool for being pleased about that – well he had been a fool for her before.

 

‘ _Dearest James_

_My latest endeavours find me both under additional parental scrutiny and not much in the way of society which rather limits certain opportunity._

_However, Miss Prescott’s engagement ball is this Saturday and my father means to attend. I as punishment for acting a shop keeper have been excluded from the guest list._

_Therefore if you do intend to attend a ball celebrating a sham, I can only advise you to leave early._

_Yours_

_Elizabeth.’_

James obviously had no intention of going anywhere near the Prescott ball when he could stay home and await Elizabeth.


	14. Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James makes a declaration. Of sorts.

Elizabeth arrived early on the night of the Prescott ball and surprised him in his drawing room. James had not expected her for some time and had been passing the early evening with a book and a brandy. He stood at once in her presence, though the formality clearly amused her. As much as he wanted her it seemed presumptuous to take her straight off to bed though he knew so he offered her refreshment and Elizabeth helped herself to her own glass of brandy and when they were both seated, she tucked herself into his side easily enough. “Are you enjoying it?” she asked, the book was after all one of her recommendations.

“Very much,” he said. And he was- the novel is a rather over the top adventure novel but not as unrealistic as some. He liked to think she had picked it because she knew how much inaccuracies bothered him. Besides, she could have given him a moralistic religious tome and it would have seemed much more interesting given its origin.

“And I’ve interrupted,” she said sipping at the brandy while James looked at her baffled – as if he would ever object to her company. “Why don’t you read aloud?” she suggested then laughed at him when he tried to start from the beginning. “I have read it! How could I recommend it otherwise? Read from where you were up to.”

 

It seemed a rather domestic evening with only each other and the story for company. Well, the story _and_ the brandy – which Elizabeth kept topped up for both of them as he read. James knew he was more than a little drunk when she finally tired of his reading and twisted in his arms to cut him off with a kiss. James dropped the book and pulled her flush against him deepening the kiss and tangling one hand in her hair. He did not mean to take her there in the drawing room on the lounge, but Elizabeth’s hands unfastened his breaches without interrupting the kiss and then she was tugging up her own skirts and he was lost in her. In how much he wanted her. If they were not in a bed at least they were alone. It had been so long – he had been at sea months and Elizabeth had been as she said, under more scrutiny. James slipped his hand between her legs – determined to see her pleased first. Elizabeth clung to him her breath a pant in his ear, “James,” she said desperately, “I missed you so much.” Missed _you_ – she had said not _this_.

James kissed her before he said something foolish in return and pressed himself inside her just as her pleasure hit. He no longer cared where they were – when James was inside Elizabeth, well it hardly seemed to matter when his whole world shrank to her, the feel of her, the taste of her mouth against his. He buried his face in her neck when he was close and was startled to be questioned her voice a low purr in his ear.  “Did you think of this? When we were engaged?”

James blinked. He had of course, though even now that vaguely shamed him knowing how she had not felt remotely the same. But his silence only had her persist and elaborate, “about doing this in every room of the house.” Her voice shook a little, and James thought she was close again.

“No,” he admitted his voice rumbling against her skin. “I thought of having you in my bed.” More than he would like to admit but it seemed pointless to deny it, “But not this,” he said reaching to touch her again, wanting to feel and hear her overcome _again_. “But now I do,” he added as he pressed his fingers where she was sensitive circling her as he thrust. “Every room in this house, Every room in King’s House, My office at the Fort. My cabin -” The list was interrupted by her shout of his name and it was as well because James had been hanging on to his own control by a thread and he stilled against her.

 

He was still catching his breath when she squirmed against him and breathed in his ear, “very ambitious plans you have for us, James. _Every_ room in King’s House?”

James did not mean to be goaded and he had meant it. “Do you object?” he asked shuffling them a little so she was atop him and then nuzzling against the soft skin of her neck where he could feel the quickened beat of her pulse skip.

“Not at all,” she said, her eyes wide and then she kissed him properly. “I have no objection to any plans you have. Haven’t I made that clear?” Then for a moment, there was a long silence and while James would have held his peace Elizabeth, of course, could not quite leave it. “Except perhaps-”

James did not let her finish – not even with the perhaps. “I am not going to propose,” he interrupted. It was quite obvious what she was going to say and while it was something he had accepted he did not _want_ to hear her say she would not marry him. Amusingly Elizabeth did not seem pleased to hear such a declaration either and she sat up clearly offended.

“You aren’t?” She sounded more hurt than put out that James’ amusement faded immediately, and he blinked up at her.

“Not because I don’t want to,” he said. Surely, she knew that much? “I’ve thought of all the ways I might persuade you. I would not require ladylike activities. I do not need you to organise my house or social schedule or hold events to promote my influence. I would have no objections to your work with the hospital or playing shopkeeper or however else you wish to spend your time. And I think perhaps you object less to my person now than when I last proposed.”

 

Elizabeth was sitting very still now, her face unreadable as she watched him blather and while James might never have had said so much if they had not drunk so much brandy, he would not regret being honest with her. At least she would not be worried about the arrival of a proposal she would have to refuse.

“Very persuasive,” she said after a long moment, reaching down to touch his face. “And yet?”

“It would still be something you don’t want,” James said carefully. And as such was something he would have no part of it. “You do not want to marry. You’ve made that plain. And I do not want – I don’t want to be someone else who ignores what you say.”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said quietly. “I have had quite enough of that.” She was watching him quite intently, her face still in a way that meant he could not read her expression at all.  He wondered if she disbelieved him.

“I told you once I had realised that things weren’t less valuable for being fleeting,” he said sitting up to embrace her. “And I think we have moved past that. But if all we can ever have is stolen moments.” Elizabeth did not correct him. “Then it’s enough,” he said. “I do not want anything from you that you do not want to give. Nothing between us that is something you don’t want. You want this,” he kissed her briefly. “So I want this.”

Elizabeth suddenly flung herself at him, despite how close she was and knocked the breath for him as she clung to him and scattered kisses across his face. “James,” she said sweetly. “I cannot tell you what that means,” she took a breath and then kisses him again and then caught his eye. “I am sorry if-”

“No,” James said firmly. “No apologies. I mean it. It is enough.”

Elizabeth leaned into his arms. “Take me to bed?” she said. “Perhaps I can’t say what it means but if I try very hard I am sure I can show you.”

* * *

 

After that, it was easier somehow. To know this was all they would have. He would rather have snatched interludes with Elizabeth than a marriage with any other woman - especially the any of the socialites who so disapproved of her. Besides he had given his word now and so it would be enough. And it had made Elizabeth so happy that he could not regret it. He could see it in her when they were alone and she was more forward than ever. In society when she would make eyes at him to hint that she may have found somewhere private.

And sometimes she would just catch his eye from across the room and smile at him, everything about her lit up when she caught his eye and James found it very hard to look away even when they should be more discrete.

 

It surprised him a little, how much his declaration - or promise of a lack of one meant to Elizabeth. After all, she could have just declined a proposal if it was such a horror to her. He said so to her one day, he had managed to find a seat by her at a garden party. She was shunning the shade as usual which gave her an entire table to herself though normally when he joined her, some debutantes would brave the sun. Eventually. They had some time though in which they could talk quietly.

“It is not quite that simple,” she said. “I didn’t want to have to turn you down,” James suppressed a beat of hope at that until she added. “Again.” This was _enough_ he reminded himself. “Eventually you might tire of me refusing,” she added. “But mostly,” she trailed off and was quiet for a long moment, biting her lip and looking for once a little unsure. “it is not so much that you won’t ask,” she said. “As it was your reasoning. It’s not often I am listened to and even rarer that my opinion is given any weight. It means a lot.”

James could be glad of that at least, he wanted to make her happy and of course it would be something such as a promise not to propose that would do so, but he could not help but recall when she had stormed out of his office declaring he did not even think of her as a person. He could not regret that he had finally corrected that impression either.

James reached for her hand under the table. “No-ones opinion has ever had more weight to me,” he said quietly. “I am sorry if that was ever unclear.”

 

Elizabeth squeezed his hand and glanced at sideways at him and James looked a little sheepish - he did not get to answer the hint of scepticism he had seen there. Lady Bellamy was making her way towards them looking very much like a mother duck with a train of debutantes trailing after her. Elizabeth waited until James had stood to acknowledge the new arrivals and waved her fan in a desultory fashion and got to her feet. “Goodness what bad timing ladies,” she said smugly. “Admiral Norrington was just going to escort me for refreshments - the sun out here is abysmal.”

She stood and James offered her his arm and walked with her to the refreshment table. He could practically feel the heat of glares directed towards Elizabeth’s back.

“Still giving my opinion weight?” she said under her breath and James had not meant to be disapproving - he’d gone along with her little jab.

“Of course,” he said. “And it’s a relief to escape whatever Lady Bellamy had planned but I do wonder if perhaps it is not quite so necessary to set yourself apart from everyone.”  

“I am already am set apart.” Elizabeth reminded him but she softened slightly to add. “Not everyone can admire me as you do.”

“Well, I should hope not,” James said and this won him a laugh.

 

“I know I must make nice sometimes,” Elizabeth said after a moment or two though James had seen very little to no evidence that Elizabeth ever did. “But Lady Bellamy has told me that the ladies of society are boycotting the bookshop because of my involvement and it is beyond maddening. They wouldn’t even be allowed in the place without my involvement. And so it is making very little difference to business but Mrs Perkins is fretting over it. And Lady Bellamy said that I should step back. That Mrs Perkins would be an excellent charity case for women of more influence if I was was not involved.”

Elizabeth took a breath and James handed her a cup of punch. “I hardly think Mrs Perkins wants charity,” he said. “She wants to run her own business does she not?” Not that he had ever so much as spoken to the woman.

Elizabeth shrugged. “She might appreciate the help of someone more in favour,” she said. “But at the time she most needed it none of them were offering were they.”

 

It was a fair point and James might have said so but they were joined by the Governor who wanted a moment of his time and Elizabeth was left to her own devices watching the gaggle of debutantes where they had left them in the sun and by the time James was done with her father, she was nowhere in sight.

He went in search of Theo Groves instead who was shamelessly flirting with Lady Dalrymple which seemed a little alarming to James given the proximity of Mrs Foster who was watching bemusedly.

“If you are after Theo, it seems there is a wait Admiral,” Mrs Foster told him fluttering her fan and eyeing him in a way that gave him pause it was so bold. It reminded him of the way Elizabeth looked when she had dreamed up something else to surprise him with.

“So I see,” James said hesitantly.

“I don’t know why I put up with him,” Mrs Foster said with an exaggerated sigh and to James surprise she then winked at him. “But I will allow that you must take precedence with the Captain, Admiral, given your shared duty.”

 

James would never have claimed so - nothing he wanted to ask of Theo had anything to do with the service but Mrs Foster had left without so much as a by your leave and he found himself claiming Theo’s attention glad to interrupt his time with Lady Dalrymple unable to hide his disapproval, perhaps Theo did not owe Mrs Foster fidelity but surely some respect was expected. Theo only laughed at him when he said so.

“Gave you precedence did she?” he said. “Wicked woman. We had a wager which you’ve now made me lose. That I could keep Lady Dalrymple’s ahem," Theo paused for a moment, "attention for an entire afternoon,” James caught the edit there but quickly decided against questioning it on every possible level.

“I will reimburse you for the loss,” he began only for Theo to look horrified at the notion.

“It was not that sort of wager!” Theo sputtered. “And while I am sure Emily would love you to owe her a forfeit I think you would object. And I certainly do.”

 

James was beginning to think that Theo and Mrs Foster deserved each other and whatever games they were playing. But having lost his wager already Theo could not claim that he did not have time to inform the other officers that an interest in literature both in the form of books and attention to girls that read would be well favoured with Admiral Norrington at the moment.

Elizabeth may never be in the favour of the matrons of Port Royal but James had influence to spare and he was happy to share it.

  
  



	15. Devising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James' offers to assist Elizabeth lead to a realisation he struggles with.

James could hardly complain he knew but he found it a little frustrating that the book shop was always so busy now. Previously he could be guaranteed to have time alone with Elizabeth whenever he knew she would be there. At least to speak to her. Now there was generally a crowd in there. He was sure they could not all be buying books though his presence did tend to encourage some purchases. But his words had engendered a whole new literary circle to form it seemed.

“I would be ever so grateful,” Elizabeth had told him one day. “But I have three invites to poetry readings now so I may have to hold that against you.”

James did not understand – what was wrong with poetry? He said as much only for Elizabeth to inform him that he would see.

 

It was apparent from the first event. Only the very ambitious were reading works of their own creation and generally the ambition outweighed any talent. There was a distinct theme as well with the ladies of society producing a surprising number of poems about the beauty of the sea.

“If only someone had informed them of the beauty of metre,” Theo Groves had said – more loudly than he ought.

Elizabeth laughed. “You will undo all your popularity if you aren’t careful,” she said. Indeed, it was mere moments before Lady Bellamy appeared to enquire just what Captain Groves intended to read.

“Oh, I would not want to take time away from the young ladies,” Theo said to no avail. And while he had more excuses, in the end, he followed Lady Bellamy’s direction.

If Lady Bellamy was hoping to embarrass the Captain - a feat James was not entirely sure was possible, she would not do so with a reading.

 

“Perhaps he will have a poem for Mrs Foster,” Elizabeth suggested, watching Lady Bellamy harry Theo along to the balcony above her ballroom, that she had designated the perfect stage for readers to stand.

“I very much doubt it,” James said. He knew exactly what Theo Groves would read and he was proved right when Theo gave a rather rousing rendition of the St Crispin’s Day speech,

“Theo was made to learn that speech as a child,” James informed Elizabeth, “when he was made to copy it out ten times as a punishment and has used it ever since at every possible opportunity when called upon to recite or provide entertainment at sea. There is not an officer who hasn’t served with him who hasn’t heard him recite ‘we few, we happy few,’ on multiple occasions.”

 

But at least Theo Groves, who like all officers was used to pitching his voice to be heard on deck, did Shakespeare some justice. Many of the other readers did not. There was much mumbling and misquoting.

“I think I would prefer they go back to original poetry,” Elizabeth said in the end. “At least they aren’t ruining works I am fond of then.”

“Are you going to read something?” James asked.

“Certainly not,” Elizabeth said. “I’m not trying to win over one of these apparently book obsessed officers, am I?”

But by the end of the night, she pressed an unsigned piece of paper into his hand as she took her leave and left with her father.

‘ _Doubt thou the stars are fire;_

_Doubt that the sun doth move;_

_Doubt truth to be a liar;_

_But never doubt I love.’_

James spent half the night wondering over the meaning of that. He should be thrilled by such a declaration but as much as the words seemed positive, Hamlet and Ophelia hardly had an inspiring end.

But after that night’s contemplation, James decided to not overthink the note, he kept it, of course, part of a collection of keepsakes made up of her previous note, a few hairpins, and a scrap of silk from the shift he had ripped.

 

He is forced to his own reading at an event soon enough and while Theo Groves has been driving him utterly mad with suggestions of sonnets and the potential impact of a public declaration, James decides to play up to the position Theo has won him of public malcontent who thinks the girls of Port Royal not good enough.

Elizabeth finds him after his turn at entertaining and scolds him. “Winter of discontent indeed! That was a nice try but I suspect if anyone could make Richard III a romantic hero, it’s you,” she said, blunt as always. “You hardly fit the part of a deformed villain. You should have read a battle scene I know you have a knack for it.”

“Perhaps I am saving that for you,” he said. They were still making their way through the book she had gifted him on the nights she spent with him at least when she managed to arrive early enough, they did not go straight to bed. This at least won him a smile.

 

It is weeks before Elizabeth read anything, avoiding Lady Bellamy’s demands, snide comments from other girls and constant needling from Theo Groves who has done his St Crispin’s day speech at every literary event but one. At that after a considerable amount of brandy, he had got up and instead recited sonnet 18 while never looking away from Mrs Foster. It had not had the desired effect at all, Mrs Foster’s expression had turned stony at once and she had left the ballroom and been definitely cooler towards him ever since. It seemed rather unfortunate in James’ opinion. Mrs Foster was widowed - Theo’s comparing her to a summer day could be taken as courtship not an attempt to ruin her reputation. Perhaps she did not want a second husband. It was an attitude that could only have James sympathising with Theo though not outloud given that Theo had not brought it up.

 

Elizabeth has to do things differently of course and starts her reading from the Odyssey with a great deal of badly pronounced Greek. James doubts more than ten people at the event could follow it before she switches to English for the stanzas detailing Penelope’s misleading of the suitors.

“I did not think Penelope would be a favourite of yours,” he said after, bringing her a cup of punch to wet her throat.

“Why ever not,” Elizabeth said. “It’s not her fault she was left alone for ten years. I have always liked that she did not give in. Anyway, it was this or Dido in the Aeneid and I think more people speak Latin.”

Elizabeth was not asked to read again. James was but he had been firmly ignoring the requests. He hardly cared if he won further disapproval from the matrons.

 

One afternoon he called on the bookstore and found Elizabeth alone at last. “An end to the trend?” he asked knowing it was foolish to be hopeful given his own part in it.

“A lull at least,” she said. “I never thanked you for that. You needn’t have really. The important part was that Mrs Perkins had the help. I should not have been so possessive.”

James did not see the harm in it. “Well if you have made friends with Mrs Perkins, I do not see why you should not want to carry on.”

But Elizabeth only laughed at him. “I think Mrs Perkins might actually like me slightly less than her husband did,” she said, and James was astounded by the notion of such ingratitude and it must have shown. “Don’t look like that,” Elizabeth said. “She is very sheltered poor thing – I am constantly shocking her, and I didn’t help her for friendship's sake.”

“Why then?” James said. He thought he had understood Elizabeth’s wish to be helpful but if she did not even get on with the woman then why had she been so determined.

“Because it was the right thing to do,” Elizabeth said. “She had every right to keep the shop – widows are allowed to hold property and as they are the only women who are, I feel very strongly they should get too.” There was a pause and Elizabeth seemed to consider for a long moment before adding reluctantly. “And she was the first of _all_ the women who I have offered assistance, to actually accept even if she didn’t really want help from me.”

James did not even realise there had been others and Elizabeth carried on before he could ask. “Before I started volunteering at the hospital I tried – well to organise help for impoverished widows, and unmarried mothers, ruined girls, women with nowhere else to turn. It did not go well.”

James said nothing. He could see very well why, and no doubt Elizabeth knew now as well.

“I should have picked one, I know,” she said. “No respectable widow would want to be grouped in with the others and girls whose reputation might have barred them from marriage still feel superior from those unfortunate enough to fall with child. And I made it worse by offering help to out of work servants as well. The very idea.” Elizabeth pulled a face.

“I’m sorry,” James said.

“No,” she said. “It’s hardly your fault, is it? And it was rather a doomed notion – my allowance wouldn’t have allowed me to help more than a few women and I can imagine very well how fund raising might have gone.”

 

Elizabeth started vigorously tidying books. “And I’m not just helping Mrs Perkins,” she added. “Her lessons are being taught by Miss Smith, who was a governess until her last charge’s father decided to be over-familiar. So, Miss Smith has employment and will have a reference when Mrs Perkins can read. And Mrs Perkins has said she’ll hire a shop girl with only a reference from me as long as I find her one who is not too scandalous, so that’s another.”

Everything about her stance said that even though she was helping multiple women, this was not a sufficient number in her opinion.

“It’s a very good start,” James said. “And I am sure there are numerous women the hospital has helped as well?”

Elizabeth gave him a long look as if she doubted, he was taking her seriously. Though he was, and after a moment she softened.

“Yes,” she said. And then she took advantage of the fact they were alone to press kisses on him. “But I mean to do more,” she told him.

“I would be happy to be of assistance.” James ventured and Elizabeth smiled at him.

“I was hoping you would say that,” she said.

 

* * *

 

Of course, that was as much detail as he was given as to how he could help, Elizabeth blithely assuring him he would know when he was needed. And James could only assume he would be needed because the latest target of Elizabeth's help appeared to be Miss Prescott.

James could not have predicted anything less likely. Miss Prescott had refused to invite Elizabeth to her engagement ball because she had been helping in a shop but now all of a sudden seemed to be quite willing to befriend Elizabeth despite the disapproval of both her fiancé and her father to gain whatever help it was she wanted from Elizabeth.

He could not help but dislike the idea that Elizabeth was being used. "She used to cut you in the street," he told her one evening when they were sharing a dance.

"Yes," Elizabeth said. "But that hardly means she deserves to be trapped in a sham marriage now does it." She shrugged. "I imagine it took a lot for her to ask for my help and if I manage to get her out of this engagement, she will be in my debt."

"Are you coaxing more women to the unmarried life?" James asked - he could not have thought of a more unlikely candidate than Miss Prescott.

"No," Elizabeth said. "No one is that persuasive - not with her anyway, she has a _tendre_ for Lieutenant Tyler. And remarkably it seems he returns the affection, but he's not considered as much of a catch as Mr Harlow - financially anyway - which is what her father cares about. So, her father refuses to let her throw Harlow over. And the lieutenant can't afford her without a dowry, so I have to get Harlow to withdraw.”

James had a moment of horror with the sort of plot he could imagine Elizabeth would come up with in such a case. “With minimal scandal,” she added with a cheeky grin. And then their dance was over she held onto his hand for just a beat longer than she had to and gave him a meaningful look that he knew meant she had an inkling of some sort of a private space to withdraw too.

 

Later by the punch, she managed a whispered invite to take the air. It has been some time since they had resorted to private moments in a garden but there always are occasions it is all that is available. But it turns out Elizabeth has something else in mind.

“Not tonight,” she told him biting her lip - this only makes him want to kiss her more. “Tonight you get to be helpful.”

“Oh?” James said endeavouring not to look disappointed.  He must have failed miserably because she kissed him.

“Poor darling,” Elizabeth said. “I know the timing it less than ideal but I promise it is only a little task, all you have to do is go back in - do your best to look shocked or perturbed as if you’ve seen something truly scandalous.”

“Something besides yourself?” he asked amused by her consolation and yet concerned that once again she would not tell him her whole scheme. “Are you setting me to spreading gossip?” James asked - he had said he would help and of course he would but if she was wanting to start rumours about Miss Prescott’s fiance - ones that might end up with the man hanged he would have to finally tell her no.

“Of course not,” she said. “What would be the point of asking you to lie?  You are, I am afraid mainly a background character in this drama. You only have to pretend a little. You’re to go in and make a beeline for Theo Groves - interrupt him with whatever he is doing as if something urgent has come up. Then leave.”

“Leave?” James said growing more baffled. “What exactly am I to tell Theo?”

“Anything you like,” Elizabeth said and kissed him again. “I promise James - there will be nothing but a minor scandal - not even that if this works.” That was at least reassuring. But more so was her next promise. “The sooner you are home the sooner I can join you.”

 

In the end, James settled on asking Theo if he knew exactly Elizabeth was up to. Theo denied having any clue so vehemently that James was certain he was lying. But James played his requested part, leaving after the rushed conversation.

He had not been home half an hour before Elizabeth appeared. As much as he would normally delight in having her here he could not help but wonder - did she trust Theo Groves more than him?

And when she pressed kisses onto him and he was slow to respond, she paused and glanced up at him. “James? Is something wrong?”

“I could lie,” he told her and felt a buffoon immediately for sounding so petulant but having started he added. “Better than Theo Groves at any rate.”

“I did not mean you couldn’t,” Elizabeth said, though she was humouring him, he was sure of it. “But you would have been a lot less comfortable with it. I haven’t asked Theo to lie anyway. He’s spread enough gossip about you! The Captain is going to give Lieutenant Tyler extra watches, or inventory duty or whatever else that a junior officer who has earned the  displeasure of his superiors gets these days.”

 

James saw the pieces fall into place. “They’ll think that came from me,” he said. “That I have directed Captain Groves to discipline him because of something I saw in the garden.”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “That is the general idea.”

“And then you will start some sort of rumour I saw him with Miss Prescott?”

“Of course not,” Elizabeth said. “I’m her friend now and besides I promised not to blacken her good name. I’ll get Mrs Perkins to do that. Which will won’t be enough to actually ruin her because Mrs Perkins wasn’t at the party. Not enough to disgrace Miss Prescott you see, just enough to give Mr Harlow pause.”

James could have sighed with relief. As schemes went it seemed quite mild compared to what he had thought Elizabeth might conjure “And will that be enough, given the rumours of his inclinations?”

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “Mr Harlow apparently questioned her closely about her relationship with the late Mr Maitland. And her father allowed it He was very clear he did not want _used goods_ so however he’s inclined it should be enough.” James was sure, that if not Elizabeth would have another plan to try.

“I see,” he said and he pulled her close for a kiss feeling her resist a little so that he backed off at once, wondering if he had pushed too far - though was it too much to want her to trust him?

 

“I can leave you out of it,” she said surprising him. “In future. I know you dislike it. I would not have even asked if you hadn’t offered.”

“Actually,” James said quietly, he wanted to be part of whatever she was up to. “I was busy feeling very hard done by that you had confided in Theo more than me. Not regretting my part.”

Elizabeth blinked at him, her dark eyes wide and then she burst into laughter, the sound echoing around his bedroom. “Of all the foolish things to think,” she said. “You are the one who confides in Theo from what I hear!” James blinked - just what had Theo told her. “And to be honest I never have to tell him much at all,” she added. “He is just happy to be involved. It takes his mind off Mrs Foster.”

James could not hide his relief and Elizabeth clearly saw that. “I do not tell you everything,” she told him. “I am allowed to keep my own council. But I can promise I am telling you more than I am telling anyone else.” She kissed him after that, her hesitance gone and James let her lead him to the bed without another word. He needed to get better at accepting just what she offered and not wishing for more. But he had no idea _how_.


	16. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James manages some conversations but none that really help.

That night was probably the most awkward they had shared in their time together; Elizabeth had steered him to the bed and his hands to her laces. James had more practice undressing her now and while he might never pass muster as a lady’s maid, he could normally disentangle her without losing pins or tangling her ribbons though he often tried Elizabeth’s patience, as he was never as quick as her. That night she let him take his time which he knew at once was a concession. Even when he was inside her he felt curiously distant from her and afterwards, she clung a little which made him wonder if it had been the same for her and he wondered if this excess affection was meant to reassure him or herself.    
  
“James, I can’t stay tonight,” she said sitting up – her golden hair spilling out across his chest. “I wish I could, but I pretended a headache to leave the party so whenever my father gets home, he will check on me. Just in case I was actually telling the truth.”  
  
“Of course,” James said. It was not often she could spend the entire night with him. It was risky. It did not _mean_ anything. He pulled on his shirt and watched as she dressed, helping when directed.

 

“Perhaps given the hour, I could walk you home?” he ventured sure she would say no, that it was too risky. That it would be worse for them to be caught together than for her to be caught wandering. That no-one paid her any attention. Things she had told him again and again.

  
“I don’t need protecting,” Elizabeth told him after a long minute’s consideration. “No-one notices me.” James was sure that was truer when she dressed as a boy or a maid. Wandering around town in a ball gown was very different and he knew saying any of this would be ignored and perhaps it was his fault that he had never said just because he knew her answer. And what good would that do either of them if she was robbed or worse a thought that distracted him utterly and nearly missed when she added. “But I would not mind the company.” She was watching him as she said it. And even if that was an allowance she was only making for his sake; he was willing to take it. “But not in uniform,” she said. “If we are seen we don’t want to start any rumours to compete with Lt Tyler’s misbehaviour.”  
  
James acquiesced feeling a little lightened by this. Elizabeth dug through his wardrobe while he dressed finding him a plain dark coat that he had not seen in years, it barely fit him across the shoulders but that would be the case for most clothing that was not his uniform. Elizabeth had a cloak that covered her fine dress – it fairly swamped her in fact, and it was rather shabby. For a moment James wondered where she had got it then suppose she had probably acquired the same way of her boy's clothing and plain dress for the purpose of disguise.    


  
James was puzzled when she set out in the opposite direction that he would if heading to the King’s House.

“Honestly,” Elizabeth said fondly tugging at his arm as he stopped in the street. “I hardly meander along Main Street at this hour.”    
  
James did not think that back alleys were any more advisable and he was near horrified when she headed towards the docks, but he followed at a pointed look from her in the dark. “I go almost to Customs House and then through the exchange and up Queen Street,” she said, and he relaxed a little – it was still closer to the docks than he would have liked but he saw the sense in it. The Custom House and exchange would all be closed at night and the residential streets were not an attraction for those who plied their trade at night.  

  
  
“What brought you to that path?” he asked. It was out of her way.  Surely the less time she was out at night the better - unless she wandered about town to prove she could.  
  
“Well at first it looks like I am coming from the docks,” Elizabeth said. “If I was caught, I could claim I was meeting former associates rather than a lover.”    
  
James hardly thought that was better for her reputation, but it would be easier for her father to hush up. He would never allow her to be arrested for associating with pirates no matter how much society disapproved.    
  
“And if I on Queen Street and caught I can claim to have been at the Hospital,” she added. It was only a street away then. “But mainly it’s because Mr Brown’s shop is just beside the warehouse at Custom’s House and I used to sneak out there for years. I knew at least part of the route was quiet.”    
  
James would once have judged Will Turner very harshly for that, but he knew now it would make him an unimaginable hypocrite.    
  
“Not when we were engaged,” Elizabeth said reading him easily as always. “Will wanted to be proper and I was on my best behaviour with my Father in case he changed his mind about giving his blessing to my marrying Will.  It was before I was out, I used to escape in the night to complain to Will whenever I was out of favour with my governess.”  
  
“A rare circumstance surely?” James said knowing it was nonsense, in hopes of making her smile. It worked.

 

Elizabeth took a breath and glanced up at the dark sky as they made their way onto Queen Street, it was a clear night and the moon was bright, which made her look pale as if she was carved out of marble. It flattered her, he thought as everything did but did not suit as much as sunshine he thought. This close to the docks the smell of the sea was stronger – though there was nowhere in Port Royal the sea breeze didn’t touch.    
  
“When I used to escape back then it felt like the only time I would ever be free of restraint,” Elizabeth said, “And my last chance for time with Will – I knew as soon as I had my debut, he would be considered even more unsuitable company.” She nudged him and offered him a smile. “Just shows what I know after all.”  
  
James returned the smile as they approached the King’s House. They had seen not another soul on the walk, and he had high hopes based on that and the lack of gossip, he might be able to accompany her home in future.  

  
  
Elizabeth steered him towards a side gate avoiding the main gate and gravelled drive – there was no sign of her father’s carriage at least. “I can’t invite you in,” she said. “But perhaps you might call for tea soon?” James nodded and she reached up to draw him down for a kiss.    
  
He was still caught up in what she had said but the taste of her mouth was enough to distract him. It was only when she slipped through the side gate, he managed to blurt his question.    
  
“You are unrestrained now are you not?” She must have as much freedom as she did at fifteen surely.  
  
Elizabeth turned to him and he could not read her face. “Oh James,” she said softly and what she might have said next was lost because at the rumble of a carriage arriving. She blew him a kiss and fled up the garden path leaving him as always wondering.    
  
 

* * *

  
  
James was still contemplating her response the next day. He was sure, quite sure in fact that if she had had the chance to answer him if she had deigned to answer the question at all, that Elizabeth would have said no. But he was equally as certain that it was nothing to do with him - he had promised not to ask her for more than she wanted to give, and he had not. Would not. But she had told him to his face that he was the only one who did. But there was nothing he could do about the rest of society - he had made his disapproval of their treatment of her quite clear which Elizabeth usually objected to.  
  
He was considering this - instead of a report that he should be reading when the report’s author appeared in his office without so much as a knock.  

  
  
Theo Groves took the seat opposite James’ desk with a huff. “Women are impossible,” he announced. “Impossible. We spend the entire season watching debutantes try to catch a husband and when I try and court Emily - who as you know - is already more than fond of me and she avoids me like the plague.”  
  
“Is that what that was?” James said. “It’s possible she did not realise what your change of performance portended.”  
  
“Why avoid me then?” Theo protested.    
  
James thought of several reasons - mostly involving Lady Dalrymple but said nothing. Theo had claimed Mrs Foster had agreed to whatever he was up to but it hardly showed an inclination to something more committed.    
  
“Had you discussed marriage with her previously?” he asked.    
  
“Hardly,” Theo said glancing over at the tea tray that had been recently delivered, he wrinkled his nose at the lack of coffee and helped himself to tea anyway. “But she is not like your Miss Swann - she has been married before. Why should she not want to marry again? I am a decent catch.”  
  
“Because she does not need to.” James said almost without thinking.

 

For as many jokes as Theo had made about Mrs Foster going through her lover’s money, she clearly had been left in a stable position by her late husband. Theo managed to look put out and baffled all at once and James felt awkward.  “Women don’t pursue husbands because they regard men as such prizes,” he said after a moment. “But because it is the only option for them to be supported in life.”  
  
Theo looked at him. “Miss Swann has bent your ear on this matter,” he said.    
  
“It is not our usual topic of conversation,” James replied after a pause. “But Elizabeth has never hesitated in making her opinion clear.” Theo looked sulky and added sugar to his lukewarm tea.    
  
“Perhaps it is nothing like that,” James said. “Mrs Foster may not have taken your sonnet in the manner it was intended,” James added. “Perhaps she thought it was being offered to Lady Dalrymple. Perhaps she thought you showing interest publicly when you have been circumspect was an attempt to force her hand. Perhaps she has her eye on another man.”    
  
“Christ,” Theo muttered. “Anything else?”  
  
James had been going to point out the law that would make Mrs Foster’s property her husbands if she married but he decided against it. Theo looked hard done by enough and while James would never be ill-mannered enough to bring up money, he had served with Theo long enough and read enough reports of the action in Jamaica to know Theo had done well for prize money. He was not a fortune hunter and Mrs Foster must surely know that too.    


  
“You need to talk to her,” James said after it was clear Theo intended to continue sulking. “In society, if you cannot manage privately - you need not be entirely inappropriate. Assure her that the sentiment was sincere but that you will withdraw it if unappreciated.”  
  
Theo did not look pleased with that advice at all and James had nothing else to suggest.    
  
“I suppose it's that or cause some sort of scandal,” Theo said reluctantly. “And if I did force her hand, she might murder me in my sleep even if she does agree to marriage.”    
  
“I think I can say with confidence that an engagement which is not wanted by both parties in it is not an ideal outcome,” James told him. Causing a scandal seemed much more like Theo than James’ suggested solution but James could not see it going well.  
  
Theo looked a little sheepish then but rather than admit James was right, he left but only after declaring he could have his pick of debutantes if he wanted.    
  
James did not point out that if Theo wanted a debutante, he was welcome to court one. But it was tempting.  
  
 

* * *

  
  
It was several days before he managed to call for tea with Elizabeth and the Governor joined them which put paid to any plans of real conversation. Though they managed several engaging conversations about literature which the Governor seemed to approve of. He seemed encouraged by Elizabeth’s new friendship with Miss Prescott and was forever encouraging Elizabeth to do another reading. “You are fond of Shakespeare,” her father reminded her. “Something all in English might be a little more suitable,” he sounded ever so hopeful.

“I am saving Lady Macbeth’s soliloquy for when Lady Bellamy gets really insistent,” Elizabeth told him in a sweet tone. The Governor took that with as much grace as possible.

“I am grateful you haven't picked out one of the witches’ scenes,” he said. “They were always your favourites growing up.”

“Well I could not possibly do that justice,” Elizabeth said sipping her cordial which barely hid her wicked smile. “I do not have another two witches.”

“You could always ask Miss Prescott,” James said innocently, and Elizabeth eyed him.

“I am quite sure she has made her own selections,” she said. “Anyway Father, when are you going to do a reading? You have quite the flair for drama yourself.”

“Nonsense,” the Governor huffed. “And as if any such thing is necessary. I’m not going to prevent you young people having your fun.”

James felt quite startled to be grouped in with the young people and Elizabeth spent the rest of the tea suggesting speeches to her father while he huffed fondly at her.

 

The next time he called the Governor invited him to join him for a game of chess and attempted to recruit Elizabeth to entertain them on the piano. She refused at once. “I am considering my next reading,” she said indicating a selection of books she had scattered about the drawing room. James lost at chess badly while trying his best to seem focussed on the board and not staring at Elizabeth and watching the Governor carefully to make sure he was not being observed looking at Elizabeth.

He could not help but wonder at this sudden chaperonage.  Did Weatherby Swann suspect? It seemed unlikely he would even permit James in the house if so - at least not to do more than make Elizabeth an offer. And he seemed perfectly pleasant as he scolded James for his lack of attention to the game.

“Come now Admiral, I was expecting a contest. I so rarely face a competent opponent these days.”

“Clearly my own lack of challenging games of late has atrophied my skills somewhat,” James said. “But next time I assure you it won’t go so easily for you.” This delighted the Governor and James left the afternoon somewhat baffled and more than a little frustrated.

He could not speak with Elizabeth at King’s House, she had not been to his house since the night of the ball and the odd occasion he saw in public, she was in a crowded bookstore or busy on hospital business. And there was a curious lull in the social activity which James could only attribute to overall weariness in regard to any and all literary discussion coupled with a reluctance for any host to be the first to break the trend.

And worse the Weatherby Swann’s behaviour was not a coincidence. It was not happenstance. James was of course, welcome at King’s House but unlike in the past when he had often found Elizabeth alone or found that the Governor had tasked her with entertaining him before an appointment where the Governor was inevitably running late, now he could not so much as arrive at the King’s House before the Governor immediately found time for him.

 

Elizabeth tolerated this for a whole fortnight before during a tea, a clerk interrupted them. “Sir I must beg pardon for the intrusion, but Thompson has located the customs files you wanted. I know you said you wanted to be told at once.”

“Yes, I should think so,” the Governor said, “About time too.” He stood and James rose as well - he was almost certain he would be asked to leave.

“Don’t worry Father,” Elizabeth said. “I can entertain the Admiral if there is a matter of some urgency.”

James was going to say of course he could leave if this time had become inconvenient, but Elizabeth gave him such a glare that he shut his mouth without saying a word.

“Elizabeth’s company is always sufficient,” he said. “Unless of course, I can be of any help.”

This offer was waved off and the Governor followed the clerk out - not before the clerk managed to sneak in a glower at Elizabeth.

“None of the clerks like me,” Elizabeth said before he could even ask. “But Mr Mason is especially displeased because he thinks I hid those files.”

“Why would he think such a thing?” James said.

“Because I did,” she said without a hint of shame. “There is not another event for a week, and you are sailing soon. I had to find some way of calling off my father.”

 

“Elizabeth if I have offended your father in some way,” James started, he knew absolutely her father’s worries must not even be close to the truth or he would not have left them alone for any emergency.

“No, I don’t think so,” Elizabeth said. “And I thought he might think I might offend you, but I don’t think it’s that either - he was most pleased that I’m going to the literary parties and that I’m befriending Miss Prescott. But if he is up to something you can be sure I will find out.”

That hardly seemed entirely reassuring. “You are sure he does not suspect something?” Not the full truth of course, given how welcoming he was. But still.

“Quite sure,” Elizabeth said. “I am sure he is more delicate with you, but I would get no end of hints if he thought I had attracted your interest again.”

She moved closer to him and he pulled her into his arms and breathed in the scent of her hair. “Though he is quite calculating when he wants to be,” she said. “Perhaps we’ve only been left alone so he can burst in on us in a compromising position.”

 

James felt a jolt of horror at that idea - especially as Elizabeth had said she would not be forced to the altar by anything but a pregnancy until he felt the vibration of Elizabeth’s laughter against his skin. “I think he knows you better than that,” she said fondly.

“Does he?” James said - it was unearned, ill-deserved faith that the Governor had in him if so. He had Elizabeth in his arms right now and her father was only a few rooms away.

“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “I could offer to lock the door and remind you of your ambition for _every room_ in this house, but I don’t think you would take me up on it.”

“No,” James said. Though it was now a mental image that would haunt him. But even though it had been weeks since there last night together and he wanted her badly, he would not be that foolish or reckless. “Though now I will definitely lose at chess when your father comes back, and I can’t stop thinking about what you just said.” This made her laugh at least when he had worried his refusal might offend.

“There is no need to wait,” Elizabeth said. “I can thrash you at chess if you like.” It was not quite as bad as that, but she did win, and James did not want to ruin her pleasure in it by asking her if she felt constrained by life as she had implied. So he said nothing and felt a coward.

 

* * *

 

The next time James called - wondering if Elizabeth would manage another distraction it was, in fact, the opposite as she was called away by a messenger from the hospital when he had been there less than half an hour.

“Finally,” said the Governor startling James further. “I was nearly going to have to summon you on business to get a private word. I’ve never known Elizabeth to have so much time for socialising. I have been meaning to thank you for that, I know she would not bother if not for you.”

This only made James concerned by what else her father might assume but the Governor was not finished. “It has been a relief,” he said. “To see her re-join society properly at least a little. I know she would hate that I say so, but it worried me.”

 

“Sir I am not sure that I can take any credit,” James said carefully. He wondered just how far the Governor expected Elizabeth to go in re-joining society.

“I do not mean to suggest a match,” he said. “Suitable as it would be and as much as it would please me to see her settled. She has made her feelings inescapably clear.  Repeatedly.” Weatherby Swann suddenly looked concerned. “On marriage,” he added. “Not your person, Admiral.”

 James smiled at that, it hardly stung as much now to think she would be declaring her disinterest to her father - not when he knew, mostly anyway, it was not him she objected to. “I am aware of her opinion of the institute,” he said.

 

But the Governor sighed and suddenly looked much older. “I know I will not see her future secure in that matter and I have made my peace with it. She will be well off and I can manage matters legally to make sure it remains hers I am sure.”

The Governor had paused for a long moment and when he continued, he slumped somewhat and suddenly looked much older. “But I have other concerns, that she might not be welcome in society when I am gone, or if my influence has waned. And that she would not go even if she was. Did you know she learnt to cook a year or so ago and quite well - not like when she was younger. I was surprised she cared for such a domestic lesson until she said it was one less servant she would have to hire. The housekeeper tells me she did her own mending for a while until she was determined it was satisfactory and every governess she ever had could never get her to pick up a needle.”

 

James had known about the cooking vaguely, from his recovery and the needlework seemed surprising though he did not quite see her father’s concern until the Governor spelt it out.

“She was preparing for a life alone,” the Governor said. “One presumably in which she had no support from me in return for her choices. And I cannot bear to think of her alone and friendless even if she would have it that way. But now she welcomes your company, and Captain Groves’ and she has befriended Mrs Perkins, Mrs Foster and Miss Prescott. So, I was hoping you might be of further aid.”

“I would never take part in any society that excluded Elizabeth,” James said at once. His knowledge that Elizabeth’s friendships with most of the women the governor had named were perhaps less than sincere only made it worse to hear her father’s worry.

“No,” the Governor said. “But you could do very little to get her back into society if she decided she’d lost interest in it again.”

James was not sure what the Governor wanted then as that was certainly correct.

“No, I suppose not,” he said. If Elizabeth did not want to be in society then she would not be. “Though I do think it seems unlikely she will come to such a decision, she has her own ambitions that society serves.” James suddenly wondered if he was breaking a confidence but surely Elizabeth’s father knew about her attempts to help women.

“Yes,” the Governor said. “I know. But it is not the same as companionship is it? Surely there must be officer’s wives who would be glad of your favour for their husbands?” James was somewhat taken aback, and it must have shown as the Governor hurried on. “I know I am asking you to use your influence for her again – I can assure-”

“Governor Swann,” James interrupted. “I am more than aware of how much you have paid that debt in advance.”

James had left Port Royal under a dark cloud and yet still maintained his rank. He had earned his way back to a first-rate against the French but for him to even have that chance and not be set on land with no post, _someone_ had had words with the Admiralty board and his own father had disowned him for giving Jack Sparrow a head start. It only left one suspect. And if that were not enough – there was the ongoing campaign to see him knighted that he had been unable to persuade Weatherby Swann to drop. So, it was difficult to contemplate refusing what on the surface was a reasonable request despite the fact that he knew Elizabeth would hate it.

In the end, James was forced to a specious kind of honesty. “I am not sure I see the value in bought companionship,” he told the Governor. “And I suspect we both know your daughter would share that view. And she is too perceptive to not notice a sudden change in attitude and she would regard that with deep suspicion if she thought that we had interfered.”  

“Yes,” the Governor said glumly.

“But I can encourage those who wish to do charitable work to have an interest in certain causes,” James said. “At least then some common cause might be found.”

Weatherby Swann brightened at that. “Yes,” he said sounding relieved. “Very good. That’s just the sort of thing she’d like.”

It was a poor salve to James’ conscience in the end. He had only three people in Port Royal he would consider friends and of late he felt like he had been dishonest with two of them and offended the third with the truth.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading - any comments and feedback are very much appreciated!


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